


Welcome to the Jungle

by Not__Misha__Collins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Power, Branding, F/M, Flashbacks, Healing Sex, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Nightmares, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Violence, Pensieves, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Recovery, ooc percy weasley, past gang rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-28 14:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15708678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not__Misha__Collins/pseuds/Not__Misha__Collins
Summary: Draco Malfoy is made to finish out Lucius's 25 year sentence in Azkaban after his father's mysterious death just after the war. Five years later, Draco is released, but he's different. After what happened to him is revealed, a series of events that involve Harry, death eaters, the Weasley family, and a pregnant Hermione spirals into action.(Very dark fic that includes depictions of physical and sexual violence. Warnings will be included on relevant chapters.)





	1. Sins of the Father

“You can’t do this!” Narcissa screamed, “He’s just a boy! Please!”  
“Order!” one of the judges yelled, “Draco Malfoy, due to the death of your father, Lucius Malfoy, you stand accused for his heinous acts. All in favor of sentencing Draco Malfoy to Lucius’ remaining sentence in Azkaban?”  
Majority vote.   
“Draco Malfoy, you are sentenced to twenty-five years in Azkaban prison.”  
It was wrong, so wrong. Draco took one last look at his mother.  
“I love you, Draco!” Narcissa shouted.  
“Get her out of here!” another judge shouted.  
“Goodbye, Mum,” Draco spoke.  
Draco just let the tears fall. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do. By this time tomorrow, he would be in prison.  
…  
“I promise you, Mrs. Malfoy,” Percy spoke to Draco’s mother, “Harry and I are going to find a way to get him out as soon as possible.”  
“I’ll use everything in my power,” Harry said.  
Narcissa slowed her crying after that statement. She knew Harry had a lot of power. Killing the Dark Lord will do that for you.  
“They’ve used an ancient defense of the ‘sins of the father,’” Percy continued, “While not an illegal defense, it hasn’t been used in centuries.”  
“Why are they doing this?” Narcissa pleaded.  
“The ministry has a grudge against death eaters, even defected ones,” Harry said.  
…  
5 years later…  
Harry had finally managed to get that defense overwritten. The Ministry acted like they cared that Draco was wrongly imprisoned, but Harry and Percy knew better. A death eater was put away, that would be the headline, innocence be damned.   
Percy was assigned to remove Draco from the prison, and as he walked through the halls, he knew the only thing keeping him from getting jumped was his possession of a wand. Draco was housed at the upper floors, in with the twenty-five to life crowd. Cell block E, number 3081.  
“Draco?” Percy looked in on the cell, “Draco Malfoy?”  
The figure that looked back at him was not Draco. He had the right cell block, the right number, but that was not Draco. Hollow eyes, nearly covered by unkempt white hair, looked trained upon Percy’s wand.  
“Can you hear me, Draco?” Percy asked.  
Bony hands clung to the grungy prison mattress in the corner. Slowly, the figure stood as Percy waved the door open with the wand.   
“Draco,” He called again, and got no response, “You don’t know your name, do you?”  
The figure was silent as Percy led him down the corridors. Where was he being taken?  
“Tell me your name,” Percy said.  
“Serpent,” He mumbled, eyes on the wand.  
“They call you that?”  
The figure nodded.  
“Right, then,” Percy said, “You’re being released from Azkaban. I had to come to escort you.”  
The figure remained silent.  
…  
“What the hell is this?” Harry wondered when he saw Draco sitting quietly inside an empty ministry office, “This…This isn’t HIM!”  
“I thought so, too,” Percy said, “It’s like he’s feral or something.”  
“He’s a HUMAN, Perce.”  
“He kept looking at my wand,” Percy added, “All the guards have wands. He’s learned to fear anyone with a wand. I get that right, Draco?”  
The Weasley slammed his hand on the table, “Answer me, Serpent!”  
Draco’s eyes shot up, “Y…yes,” He cracked.  
“Percy, what the hell!” Harry scolded.  
“He only responds to commands.”  
“Doesn’t mean you need to verbally abuse him.”  
“Sorry,” Percy said, then looked at Draco, “I’m sorry.”  
Draco went back to focusing on the wands the two other wizards were holding.  
“He’s been traumatized,” Percy said, “In some way or another.”  
“Must’ve been hell for him,” Harry said.  
“It’s like he’s shut down,” Percy said, “Like all he knows is fear, and survival.”


	2. Animals

Clearly, Draco was unfit to live on his own in his current state. This, of course, meant that Draco was sent to live with Harry, since Narcissa wasn’t a ministry member. At least, that was the ministry’s official stance. He hated having to point a wand at Draco, to order him around just to get him to listen.

“This is your bed,” Harry said, “You…I’ll call you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But you’re allowed to eat anytime you’re hungry. Understand?”

Draco gave a gentle nod, and Harry led him down the hall to the bathroom.

“Use the bathroom or shower any time you want,” Harry said, “Just, close the door when you’re in here.”

Draco seemed to be taking to his new surroundings pretty well. Or maybe he was just that good at hiding his fear.

“Do you want a shower?” Harry asked.

The blonde began to remove his prison garments, and Harry was scared how robotic and immediate the action was.

“Stop!” Harry said in shock, “At least, wait until I leave the room.”

Harry left the bathroom and shut the door behind him. How many times had Draco stripped like that in front of someone? Why did that phrase cause Draco to act that way? What the hell happened in there?

…

“Your name is Draco,” Harry explained, “Draco Malfoy. You were sent to Azkaban five years ago.”

Draco didn’t look at him.

“I’m going to call you that, Draco. Because that is your name,” Harry continued, “At the prison, Azkaban, they hurt, didn’t they?”

The blonde’s eyes shot up.

“I will not hurt you. You’re safe here, Draco.”

Draco slowly made eye contact with Harry.

“Safe,” Draco echoed softly, like he’d never heard the word before.

“Yes, Draco. Safe. I won’t hurt you, I won’t yell at you. You’ll have food and water and clothing. You’ll be treated how you deserve…”

Draco broke eye contact immediately. **Great, Harry, you’ve screwed it up!** _How you DESERVE_ , Harry reflected.

“Draco, how do you THINK you deserve to be treated?”

The blonde grabbed Harry’s wand and held it for just a moment. Words began to appear on Draco’s arms, legs, and even his face. Carved, not unlike ‘I must not tell lies,’ except these were larger, crude and uneven. ‘Animal.’ ‘Evil.’ ‘Worthless.’ ‘Filthy.’ ’Dark.’ ’Serpent.’ Carved into him, over and over with some kind of sharp, non-magical object. Some were fresh, and some overlapped other words. Hidden, so there would be no proof, but always there to remind him when magic was used on him.

“You’re none of those things,” Harry took back his wand, and the words disappeared, “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for depictions of coerced sex and gang rape.

Draco had been at Harry’s house for two weeks, and Harry just kept getting more impatient, more angry. He wanted to know what happened in there.

“Draco?” Harry asked, “Have you heard of a pensieve?”

Draco nodded.

“Could you show me one of your memories?” Harry asked, “I want to understand what happened.”

Another nod. Harry retrieved a small vial and put his wand to Draco’s head, which made those wretched marks return.

“Try to remember something,” Harry said, “It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want to share.”

When he pulled the wand away, a string of memory hung from it, and he stuck the foggy liquid into the vial.

“Good. Thank you, Draco.”

…

Harry had gotten himself a pensieve after the war, so that he could relive his best memories. He dumped Draco’s memory into the pot, then leaned over it.

 

Draco’s arms were pinned above his head by what looked like another prisoner, as Draco lie on a dirty mattress in a prison cell.

“Let me go!” Draco yelled. He looked younger, more…alive.

“You gonna tell your daddy?” Another prisoner stood at his legs, a makeshift knife in his hand.

“He’s a dirty boy,” the prisoner who held Draco’s arms spoke, “Filthy.”

“Filthy,” the other man agreed.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” Draco glared outside the cell.

“You’re right,” Harry spotted who Draco was glaring at; a prison guard. Stoic, emotionless, he raised his wand, “Silencio.”

Draco began to kick and squirm, unable to scream, as ‘filthy’ was carved into his leg.

“I went to school with him,” the guard spoke, “He’s a right bastard.”

Harry sure didn’t recognize the guard. Did Draco?

“Here,” the prisoner with the knife tossed the weapon on the ground, “Have some fun.”

The guard checked the hallways, then picked up the knife. He’s not going to…

“Stop!” Harry yelled pointlessly.

‘Evil,’ written on Draco’s chest. The guards were ministry members, all of them. Harry had never hated the ministry so much.

 

The scene shifted. Draco again, but much later, on his knees in an empty shower room, surrounded by four guards.

“Shouldn’t have tried to grab my wand, Serpent,” One spat, “Now, you get what’s coming to you.”

“Any sort of magic or wand contact will make those words appear,” a second one spoke, “Any other time, they’re invisible.”

“Ready for a shower, Serpent,” a third one spoke.

The memory faded, and Harry was back in front of the pensieve. Draco had chosen to show him the first ‘carving,’ and the curse he’d been given.

…

Draco lied on his bed, a book in his hands.

“Draco,” Harry said, which made Draco hide the book, “You’re allowed to read.”

Draco nodded.

“They called you Serpent,” Harry said, “I saw the memory, what they did. They won’t get away with this.”

Harry gently took Draco’s hand and stroked it with his thumb. The kind touch seemed to shock the blonde.

“When’s the last time you were touched like this?”

Draco shook his head. Harry sat on Draco’s bed and petted his long blonde hair.

“You’re safe here,” Harry repeated.

…

It was another two weeks before Draco gave him another set of memories for the pensieve. Harry knew it would involve the guards again, the ministry. He leaned over the liquid pool once again.

 

“That mark won’t help you here,” Someone, an inmate, spoke to Draco, “Better hide it.”

This must have been when Draco was first imprisoned. Draco rolled down the sleeves on his prison outfit.

“Not me you gotta look out for,” the man spoke quietly, “It’s the damn guards.”

“Guards?”

“They’re the law, kid,” the man elaborated, “Just don’t piss ‘em off. And don’t let ‘em see that mark.”

“But, we were all searched before we came in.”

“They know it’s there, but lettin’ them see it is like a bull seeing red. Pisses ‘em off.”

 

The next memory must’ve been later, when Draco was settled into his cell.

“Ssst!” The guard patrolling his hall whispered, “Blondie!”

Draco looked up from his bed.

“Been hearing some whispering in the guard’s quarters,” the guard spoke, “Seems like some of them want to ‘get to know’ you.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “What do you mean?”

“You’re fresh meat. Young and pretty. Everyone wants a piece of you,” The guard explained, “Of course, I could probably…redirect some wondering eyes. For a price.”

“A…price?”

“Nothing too bad. Just the standard price, once or twice a week.”

“Which is?”

“Ever given a blowjob, kid?”

“No.”

“C’mere,” the guard said, and Draco approached him, “You sure you wanna do this?”

“Yeah. Protection, right?”

“Exactly,” the guard answered, “Name’s Alex, by the way.”

“Draco.”

“Get on your knees, Draco,” Alex said, “We’ll do it through the bars.”

Draco obeyed, and Alex lowered his pants enough that his cock stuck out.

“Take it into your mouth, nice and slow so you don’t choke,” Alex instructed, and Draco obeyed.

Harry tried to look away. God, did he try. But his eyes kept focusing back on how Draco’s mouth wrapped perfectly around Alex’s cock. **You sick freak! Draco is being coerced and you’re getting a fucking hard-on.** Harry tried to ignore his problem as Alex grabbed the bars and began to moan. He didn’t want to be there.

 

The third and final memory took Harry to what he recognized as the ministry party room, where small gatherings and celebrations were sometimes held. The place was nicely decorated, tables sat at one end served water and what was probably alcohol, and some chairs were available for guests to sit. There were, maybe, twenty people there, mostly men but a few women, all around thirty or forty. He recognized a few of them. No sign of Percy or Mr. Weasley. Harry would soon find out why. What had Draco been doing here.

“Well, here’s our guest of honor,” Sam Belthon, head of Magical Transport, spoke.

Harry turned around to see Draco sitting on an elegant yellow sofa, dressed in his prison jumpsuit, looking either really drugged or really tired.

“He’s been let out for the day,” Frank, who also worked in Transport, taunted, “Supposed to visit his mother.”

“Poor thing,” Sam looked at Draco, “How about I make you feel welcome?”

Harry’s ‘problem’ was gone the moment he saw Sam crawl atop Draco, stripping him of his clothes.

“This is the best you’ll ever have, boy,” Sam grumbled into Draco’s ear.

Draco began to whimper, to cry, and Harry had to look away. Everyone else just stood around; talking, drinking, and a few even watching.

Some time had passed, as Draco was now on his knees in front of the sofa, doing what he had done to Alex. And there was someone sitting next to him, casually drinking from a glass.

“Harder, boy,” the man Draco was servicing shoved Draco’s head forward, causing him to gag, “You think we should’ve invited Arthur? Think he’d get a kick out of seeing Lucius’ son on his knees.”

“No, he wouldn’t, you sick fuck!” Harry screamed.

“He’d just rat us out,” the man with the drink replied.

“You’re damn right he fucking would!” Harry shouted.

 

Harry couldn’t watch, couldn’t listen anymore. How the hell do you leave one of these things? How many more times was he hurt, choked, humiliated? And how could they just fucking watch?

…

That must have been what had broken him. Draco had reached his limit of humiliation, degradation, at the hands of the fucking ministry. Harry had to calm himself before returning to Draco.

 

Harry choked up when he saw Draco sitting in his bed.

“I...I saw…”

Draco faced away from him, and Harry sat next to the blonde.

“That was the day that broke you,” Harry said, “Wasn’t it?”

The blonde nodded.

“When did it happen?”

“Two years ago.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco.

“The second memory,” Harry asked, “The one with Alex. Why did you show that to me?”

“Protection,” Draco answered.

“You want my protection?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Draco caught Harry off guard with a kiss, then leaned Harry onto his back. **God, he knows all the sensitive areas, the good spots. Fucking of course he does, Harry!** Moans erupted throughout him, as he felt hands near his waistband. Finally, his brain kicked in.

“Draco! Draco, wait!”

The stopped immediately, a clear sign to Harry.

“Draco,” Harry said, “Do you really want sex, or do you just want to be safe?”

“You want me,” Draco said, noting Harry’s obvious erection, “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Harry admitted, “But not like this.”

“Why not?”

“Because you won’t refuse me. Anything I wanted, you’d give it to me.”

“Of course.”

“That’s not good, Draco,” Harry said, “You deserve to say no. you deserve some damn agency for once.”


	4. Narcissa

“You’re sure about this?” Percy asked.  
“Would you like to look at the pensieve?” Harry challenged.  
“No! I believe you. Uh, what do we do?”  
“We help Draco,” Harry answered, “Which, by the way, does not involve screaming at him.”  
“Right,” Percy said, “I didn’t scare him too bad, did I?”  
“No,” Harry said, “We have to take him to see Narcissa.”  
“Like the last ministry who took him…”  
“Are you suggesting that…”  
“No. Just that he has no reason to trust anyone from the ministry. Me included.”  
“You weren’t at the party.”  
“No, but I was invited.”  
Fury began to overtake Harry, and Percy sighed.  
“The invitation didn’t mention Draco,” He said, “Just a promotion party for that Sam fuckhead. Guess they just really liked me or some…”  
Percy stopped, fear and realization on his face.  
“They were probably just going to blackmail you,” Harry suggested.  
“Don’t,” Percy said.  
…  
Draco stared at the red-haired man in living room. Percy was glad to see the color and additional weight return to Draco’s body.  
“Draco, we, Percy and I, are going to see Narcissa,” Harry said, “We’ve told her you’re out of Azkaban, and she wants to see you.”  
“She wants to see me?” Draco asked.  
“Of course she does,” Percy said, “She’s the reason we spent five years trying to get you out of prison.”  
…  
“Draco!” Narcissa hugged her son when the three of them arrived at Malfoy manor, “Where has he been? You said he was released two months ago!”  
“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, “But he was so much worse when he was released. He was afraid to speak, or to look at anyone.”  
“Do you know what happened to him?” She asked.  
“For the most part, yes,” Harry said, “We’ll spare you the details, but he IS recovering.”  
“And we’re making a case,” Percy added, “Against the people who hurt him.”


	5. Percy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for physical violence near the end of the chapter

 “I’ll kill them,” Percy swore, “I’ll kill every single one of them.”

“You told me you didn’t want to see the pensieve.”

“I can name every one of them. I know where they work, where they live!”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Percy,” Harry warned.

Percy scoffed.

…

A lot of death eaters had a soft spot for Draco, even after the Malfoy’s defected. Most believed that Lucius’ death was no accident, and, after seeing Draco, Percy considered this.

“Weasley,” a hooded figure greeted.

“Afternoon, Jack,” Percy handed the cloaked man an envelope, “Thought you might be interested in this.”

“What is it?”

“The names of the sick fucks who gang raped Draco Malfoy,” Percy answered, “Names, addresses, times when they leave work.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because he never should have been locked up,” Percy said, “Because they took him out of prison on promise of visiting his mother, just to rape him until he begged for mercy. Because they will never spend a day in Azkaban.”

“Want us to do your dirty work?” Jack asked.

“If Narcissa knew the people who raped her son went free…”

Jack nodded, “Is he all right?”

“Far away from the ministry, if that’s what you mean.”

“With Potter?”

Percy stayed silent.

“Don’t worry,” Jack said, “We won’t go looking for him.”

“He’ll be visiting Narcissa next weekend,” Percy said.

“I’ll pass this note on. See what happens.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Hmm?”

“Leave my family out of this? They’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Never even heard of the Weasleys,” Jack smiled.

…

‘ **Three Heads of Ministry Found Dead Outside Their Homes’** , Percy read the headline, the scum in the Prophet smiling back at him. He crumbled the paper and threw it into the fireplace.

“Did you read the paper,” Harry said as he burst through the door of his house, a Prophet in his hand.

“Yep. Makes for great kindling.”

“What have you done?” He demanded.

“I haven’t done anything,” Percy answered, “I may, however, have let a few names slip.”

“Who did you tell?”

“Don’t know, didn’t see his face.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“A death eater?”

“Didn’t see his arm.”

“You’re working with DEATH EATERS!”

Percy looked at him.

“You know what?” Harry continued, “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to know.”

“Isn’t plausible deniability great?” Percy commented, then asked, “Are you going to turn me in?”

“For what?” Harry crumpled his own paper and tossed it into the fire, “You’re right. They DO make good kindling.”

…

**‘Confess or Die: Note Left at the Scene of the Crime,** ’ Percy read the next Prophet headline, **‘Following the three murders of ministry heads, a note was found on the body of Sam Belthon, head of the Department of Magical Transportation, which read: _“You know who you are, those who attended Sam Belthon’s promotion two years ago in the month of October. You know what you’ve done. Confess, publicly, or you shall all die.”’_**

He doubted they would confess anything. Why risk their careers over a lowly death eater?

Across from him, at the table, sat Draco.

“I know you did this,” Draco said, “I know the guy you gave the letter to.”

“Mmm.”

“Harry said you’d deny it,” Draco continued, “But, off the record? Thank you.”

“Off the record, I lost it when I saw your memory. To think, I know these people, worked with them, passed them in the hallways. To find out that they did this…”

“I’m sorry,” Draco said.

“Sorry for what?” Percy asked.

Draco couldn’t answer.

“I should be the one who’s sorry,” Percy said, “Not getting you out sooner, not realizing how fucking evil the ministry has become.”

…

Draco was back in Azkaban. He should’ve known it was too good to be true. Who would go through the effort to rescue HIM?

“Draco,” Harry’s gentle touch awoke him.

“Don’t touch me!” Draco shouted.

Harry pulled away from him, and Draco knew he screwed up.

“Okay,” Harry said calmly, “I won’t touch you. Are you okay?”

“I…I was back in Azkaban.”

 “A nightmare,” Harry said, “Just a bad dream. I wouldn’t let you go back.”

“You listened,” Draco noted, “When I said not to touch me.”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, Draco.”

The blonde’s eyes swam with tears. His heart ached around Harry, and his body wanted him, or a part of him did.

“I’m confused, Harry.”

“Confused?”

“I…want you,” Draco began, “I really do, but…when you touch me, it feels…filthy.”

That word was like slime on his tongue. **Serpent. Filthy serpent.**

“Don’t use that word,” Harry said, “Nothing about you is filthy.”

“I love you, Harry.”

“You do?”

“I think so,” Draco answered, “I’ve never been in love before.”

“I think I love you, too, Draco.”

…

“My dad’s getting scared,” Percy revealed, “He wants me to come stay at the Burrow.”

“What’d you tell him?” Harry asked.

“That I’m safe here,” Percy answered, “At your house.”

“You haven’t told him about the party?”

“I’m not dragging him into this. Five of them are dead, they’ll confess at some point.”

“You’re going to let Arthur keep thinking they were good people.”

“He can’t stand half of them in the first place,” Percy dismissed, then, when he saw the look Harry gave him, said, “I’ll consider it.”

…

Percy had to see the room that it had happened. He’d been there a few times himself, mostly for Christmas parties. No sofa, no chairs, just an empty room.

“Weasley,” A voice spoke.

The redhead’s heart leaped when he saw Frank, who’d locked the door.

“What are you doing here?” Percy grabbed for his wand.

“Just, reminiscing,” Frank smirked, “Expelliarmus!”

Percy fell onto the ground and his wand rolled away from him. He got up to crawl for it, but Frank kicked the wand before he could get it, then grabbed the ginger’s hair.

“I like you better at this angle,” Frank pointed his wand at Percy’s neck.

“Piss off!” Percy spat.

“You should have come to the party, Weasley,” Frank mocked, “Could’ve used a sweet ginger like you.”

“How do you…”

“I have my ways,” He answered, “Wouldn’t have expected it from you, always such a ministry bootlicker.”

Percy tried to stand up, but was kicked in the nose, and let out a small yelp of pain.

“Lick it,” Frank laughed, “Lick my fucking shoe.”

The ginger shook his head and attempted to get away, only to be kicked again, much harder than last time. His head ached.

“Do it,” Frank repeated.

“Fuck off,” Percy spat, unable to even attempt to stand up.

“Very well,” He kicked Percy in the stomach, “You’re always so fucking uptight.”

Percy could hardly move, his head hurt too much. His hair was pulled again, and he was yanked onto his knees.

“Open your mouth, Weasley.”

Percy shook his head vigorously, which just made his head hurt.

“Have it your way,” Frank threw Percy onto the floor, another kick to the side of his head.

His vision went fuzzy, and he felt hot breath in his ear.

“I always get what I want, Weasley. Remember that.”


	6. The Weasleys and Jack

“Tell me I was an idiot,” Percy said, “Tell me I fucked up. Tell me I should have fought harder.”

Harry and Draco were both silent.

“Fucking say SOMETHING!” Percy shouted.

He hadn’t realized he was nearly hyperventilating. His whole body was shaking with…something. Fear? Shame?

“Please,” he calmed down slightly, “Please, I can’t…”

Can’t what? He ran his hands through his hair. **Sweet ginger.**

“I’m sorry, Percy,” Draco said.

He’d said that before. Why is he saying it again? Percy snarled. **So fucking uptight.**

“My father was right; we aren’t safe. I was an idiot.”

Harry’s silence was starting to irritate him.

“Why aren’t you angry?” Percy asked, “I did something stupid.”

“No,” Harry said.

“What do you mean ‘no!’”

Harry was just letting him vent, Percy realized.

“I’m going to tell my family everything,” Percy said, “Hopefully, they can forgive me.”

…

**“Where do you think you’re going?”**

**Why? Why did it have to be this? Draco crawled toward the exit he would never reach.**

**“I think he’s ready to leave.”**

It was the part of the memory he wouldn’t put in the pensieve. They were done using him, but there was one more thing they’d done.

“Let’s give him something to remember us by.”

On his left, up near his buttock, a small mark was carved with a wand. A ministry ‘M’ that would last the duration of his sentence.

 

Draco woke up to Harry’s loving face. **You’re tainted. You don’t deserve him.** He opened his mouth to speak but could only whimper. **Show him, show him who you belong to**. Draco flinched. **Belong to? Fucking hell.**

“Have to…show you,” Draco revealed the mark they’d made and explained what it meant.

**He won’t touch you again after this.**

“It should be gone by now,” Harry wondered.

“T…twenty five years,” Draco stated.

**Look at his face. He’s disgusted with you. How could he love someone who’s been branded? Claimed?**

“Could I…touch it?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded and Harry gently touched the ‘M’ with his finger. Those fingers were so close to that part of him, that disgusting THING that responded to every intimate touch. Why is he like this. When every fiber of his body screams ‘no’, begs his attackers to stop, that part displays obvious arousal. Harry noticed it and pulled his hand away. Why can’t he just be fucking flaccid for the rest of his life?

“Sorry Draco,” Harry’s eyes glanced at Draco’s underwear again.

“I wish it didn’t…” Draco stopped, “I…I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Okay.”

 

Why does imagining Harry’s hands all over his body arouse him like no other? So many people have touched him, groped and kissed his body, but this would be different. There would be love and attentiveness, and trust. Sex, without pain, without fear.

…

Never in a million years would a Weasley work with a death eater, nor would Percy work against the ministry. At least, that’s how it used to be. Now, however, Percy hung his head in shame as he told his parents, like a child who’d just been caught breaking a rule.

“Son,” Arthur spoke.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut.

“Are you all right?” Arthur continued.

The young man glanced up at his father.

“I’ve put you all in danger…and you want to know if I’m okay?”

“That’s what I asked,” Arthur replied calmly.

**What does that even mean? He’s alive, isn’t he?** His face still hurts, and his mind kept flashing snippets of what happened while he was fading in and out of consciousness.

“You don’t have to be okay,” Molly assured him, “It’s all right if you aren’t. It wasn’t your fault, dear.”

They don’t blame him for it.

…

He didn’t want to relive the experience over again to all his siblings, but Bill and Charlie happened to overhear the conversation, and dragged him out to the garden for a private talk. Percy explained the death eater situation to his older brothers.

“You’re an accomplice,” Bill said.

“Yes, thank you, I know,” Percy snapped.

“I understand why you did it,” Charlie said, “It’s not what I would have done, but…”

“I’m a murderer,” Percy said, “I’m going to prison, aren’t I?”

“Not if we can help it,” Bill answered.

“I was supposed to be at the party,” Percy continued, “They were going to use me like Draco.”

Bill growled angrily.

“One of them told me,” the younger brother added, “He told me that he knew what I did.”

Bill and Charlie listened intently.

“If I was stronger, like you two, I could have…stopped him…”

Percy regretted admitting this as soon as he saw Bill’s infuriated face.

“STOPPED? HIM?” Bill’s voice shook with anger.

“Don’t be angry,” Percy pleaded, “I tried to get away, I really did. But, I was scared and…he kept kicking me in the head…”

“Bill, calm down,” Charlie whispered.

“Were you unconscious?” Bill asked.

“M…mostly.”

Percy had never seen his older brother so furious. He could feel the fury radiating off Bill. It scared him a little. He didn’t look at his brother, finding anywhere else to direct his attention, until he heard a crack.

“Bill, you’re scaring him,” Charlie warned quietly, “I know you’re upset…”

“UPSET,” Bill roared, and the crack became a shatter, “Does NOT cover it!”

“You broke the kitchen window,” Charlie said.

“Nice to see you care more about a window than the defilement of our little brother,” Bill quipped.

**Defilement?**

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Charlie defended, “Just that…I mean, Percy’s already terrified.”

Percy flinched when Bill turned to him.

“I’m not mad at YOU, Percy,” he said.

“Don’t tell anyone else,” Percy said.

“Yeah,” Bill said.

“We won’t tell anyone,” Charlie said, “Promise.”

…

“You’re sleeping a lot, Draco,” Harry commented.

“I’m tired,” Draco yawned.

“It’s fine,” Harry said, “Just that…this is going to sound…kind of stupid.”

“Go on.”

“I think you might be depressed.”

“Depressed?”

“I didn’t see the signs,” Harry explained, “I thought it was just the trauma, which can’t help, but you’re showing symptoms of depression, and probably ptsd.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t say for certain, I’m not a doctor.”

“Are you suggesting I see a healer?”

“Only if you want to,” Harry said, “I won’t force you.”

“Will I have to tell them everything that’s happened?”

“No.”

“I don’t want to be alone with them.”

“I’ll stay with you…if you want to see a healer.”

“Okay,” Draco said, “I’ll think about it.”

…

“He knows,” Percy said, “I don’t know how he found out.”

“Someone was eavesdropping,” Jack said, “We’ll have to be more vigilant.”

Percy nodded.

“Are they breaking?” Jack asked.

“I…I think so,” Percy said, “Don’t know if they’ll confess.”

“After seven deaths?”

“Listen, Jack, I can’t…I have to back out of this.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not safe anymore.”

“Was it EVER safe?”

“Not for me,” Percy answered, “But now, my family could be in danger.”

“I could keep an eye on your family.”

Percy eyed him suspiciously.

“I owe you, Weasley,” Jack explained, “You got a half a dozen of your guys out of Azkaban.”

The redhead contemplated this.

“You got a baby sister, right?” Jack continued.

“What’s your point?”

“I got a sister, too. I’d do anything to protect her.”

Percy sighed, “Don’t touch them, don’t talk to them, don’t even let them see you.”

“Not a problem.”

…

Frank opened his eyes to see a cloaked figure standing before him.

“Hello, Frank,” Jack greeted, “How are you?”

“Where am I?”

“Let’s just say you’re…locked up.”

“Who are you?”

“A friend of Percy’s,” Jack said.

Jack glared as Frank smiled.

“He was good,” Frank mocked, “Must have been a virgin.”

“Always get what you want, huh?” Jack smirked.

Jack took out his wand and pointed it at his captive.

“You like being helpless?”

Frank stared defiantly at him, but Jack could sense the fear. Good. It was good that he was afraid. Draco had been afraid, Percy had been afraid, his sister had been afraid.

“Do you know a girl by the name of Rhodenia Creighton?”

A twisted smile crossed Frank’s face. “She was a good girl,” he taunted.

“Crucio!”


	7. The Ministry Confesses

“Hello, Narcissa,” Percy said.

“Good afternoon, Percy,” Narcissa greeted, “Would you like a glass of scotch?”

“That would be nice.”

Narcissa poured two small glasses of scotch, taking one for herself.

“Thank you,” Percy sipped the alcohol.

“You wanted to talk?” She asked as they sat at the dining room table.

“Yes,” Percy said, “You know Jack?”

“Jack isn’t his real name, but yes.”

“I hadn’t meant for them to be killed,” Percy admitted.

“What were you expecting, when you turned to death eaters?”

“I…”

“Jack and his friends have a very...DIRECT form of justice.”

“You don’t think Jack will come after me, do you?”

“Jack has a grudge with the ministry, as do many death eaters,” Narcissa began, “Except for you and, by extension, your family. Since you lead many of his friends to be released from Azkaban.”

“Good.”

“I understand the desire to protect your family, I do, but Jack is…I won’t say he isn’t dangerous, but he knows not to bite from the hand that feeds him.”

…

Jack still remembered when his sister had broken down after the ministry members started dying, how she’d confessed what she’d been made to keep Jack from life in prison, (and how one of the men suspiciously fit Frank’s description). He’d wanted to burn the whole fucking place down, but she convinced him that there were innocents.

“You’re up to eight now, Frankie,” Jack mocked, “But the rest of you seem to have gone into hiding.”

“You’ll never find them,” his captor taunted.

“You don’t think they’ll come and save you?”

“They’re gonna storm this place,” Frank said, “You don’t know who you’re fucking with.”

“How long have you been getting away with this?”

“What, making deals with death eaters? Since the first wizarding war.”

“My sister wasn’t a death eater, neither was Percy.”

“No, but your sister was…so desperate to have you released,” Frank answered, “As for Percy, well, he’s just a consolation prize.”

“Why?” Jack demanded, “Why not just throw us in Azkaban?”

“More fun this way.”

Jack raised his wand again, “Crucio.”

…

Draco felt a pair of eyes upon him and Harry’s hand grabbing his.

“Take your time, Draco,” the healer said.

“Nightmares,” Draco stammered, “I’m…having nightmares.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I’ll wake up…thinking that I’m back in the cell, back in Azkaban.”

“Is there anything you’re afraid of that you weren’t before, anything that causes distress?”

“Sofas,” Draco answered, “And showers.”

“Anything else?”

“Contact,” Draco answered, “Of a…um…sexual nature.”

The blonde squeezed Harry’s hand.

“I see,” the healer said, “This is normal, Draco, after all that’s been done to you.”

Draco nodded.

“Is it…is it normal to…”

“Is what normal?”

“Just…when…when they would touch me…”

“Your attackers?”

“Yes. I…reacted, or, at least…my body did…”

“Ah,” the healer nodded in understanding, “Sometimes, the body reacts in a way opposite the mind. It doesn’t mean that you enjoy what’s happening.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No. Physical arousal is commonly used by the rapist against victim, to say that the victim enjoyed the attack.”

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d left the ministry part out of the story, opting to tell the healer that he’d been assaulted in prison. Not entirely untrue.

“Could I…leave now?”

“Of course you can,” the healer said, “I’ll schedule an appointment for another visit.”

…

“You can’t hold me here,” Ron said.

“On suspicion of working with death eaters, we can,” an auror spoke.

“I’ve never worked with any death eaters!”

Ron had been leaving he and Hermione’s house when a group of aurors surrounded him.

“Your brother Percy is wanted for suspicion of working with death eaters.”

“So, what do you want with me?” Ron asked.

“Percy has gone off the map,” the auror said, “Perhaps we can persuade him out of hiding.”

“Persuade?”

“You seem to be the only Weasley who hasn’t gone into hiding. Why is that?”

“My wife needed medical attention. She…she’s pregnant.”

“So, you know where they are?”

He did, but something warned him against telling this auror.

“No.”

“Mr. Weasley, I hope you know that we are permitted to use the cruciatus curse to interrogate suspected death eaters and their sympathizers.”

Since when?

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“if you say so. You’ll be held for questioning.”

…

The death toll had finally reached double digits.

“You read the paper lately?” Jack held a copy in front of Frank, “Guess your hiding wasn’t good enough.”

The other man didn’t answer.

“What’s the matter?” Jack taunted, “Scared?”

Frank snarled.

“What do you think, should I let you go or kill you?”

“Let me go.”

“You see, I’d LIKE to, but…that’d be giving you what you WANT.”

“Bastard,” Frank spat.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Eleven down, seven to go.

…

“They’ve got Ron,” Harry spoke.

“What?” Hermione demanded.

“You should stay with the Weasleys, in their hiding place.”

“Why are they after him?”

“I can’t tell you, Hermione, but I’ll get him out. Now, go.”

“But…”

“Trust me.”

Hermione nodded.

…

**‘The Ministry Confesses,’** Percy read another Prophet headline **, ‘Last night, ministry member Geralamo Keyden confessed to the sexual assault of Draco Malfoy, age 24, stating, “We had a couple of aurors escort him from his cell in Azkaban, over to the ministry party room. There was a gathering of about seventeen, plus myself. We took turns assaulting the boy as the night went on…”’**

Percy folded the paper, then put his head in his hands.

…

**“Stop squirming!” another disgusting hand touched his neck, his chest.**

**Oh god, why? He was bleeding, there was blood coming from him.**

**“That’s better.”**

 

“Draco, are you all right?” Harry touched his shoulder.

**Harry. Harry is safe, Harry is good.**

“Yeah,” Draco gasped.

“Another flashback?”

“Think so,” Draco said, “Harry, I’m trying. I really am.”

“I know,” Harry said, “You’re not ready, that’s okay.”

“I can’t even kiss you without…” Draco stopped, “How can you still want to be with me?”

“I didn’t enter this relationship for sex,” Harry said, “I care about you, Draco.”

“Didn’t we used to hate each other?”

Harry laughed, “That was a while ago.”

“Feels like an eternity.”

…

“I’ll ask you again…where is your family hidden?”

“I don’t know,” Ron answered.

He’d been saying he didn’t know for days. They’d crucio-ed him twice, yet he still refused to tell.

“Are you completely mad?” Harry entered Ron’s vision, “You don’t have the right to torture him.”

“But…” the other auror argued.

“But NOTHING. You barely have a right to hold him. Now get out of here. Leave Ron to me.”

Ron breathed a sigh of relief when the other auror left.

“Harry.”

“You’ll be out of here in a few days, Ron.”

“Good.”

“Are you okay?”

“A little sore.”

“Do you really know where they are?”

There was something off about him.

“No, I don’t,” Ron said, “But tell me, Harry, what was the name of my first pet?”

“You expect me to remember that?”

“The real Harry wouldn’t forget something like that.”

Harry peered at him, “How did you know?”

“I’ve seen enough Harrys to know the real Harry,” Ron answered, “Are you going to curse me again?”

“Not just yet.”

“Didn’t plan this far, did you?”


	8. Draco's Mind

Draco has always been fascinated with snakes. The way they slither through the grass, coiled in on themselves, and their smooth texture. When he was about five, his mother found him out in the yard, with a large snake coiled around his body. She panicked, but he was confused and angry when his snake friend was banished.

“Draco?” Harry asked.

The blonde stared at the snake that crawled through Harry’s yard.

“Vipera Berus,” Draco said, “European Viper.”

“How’d it get in my yard?” Harry sounded scared.

“I don’t know,” Draco answered, “It’s venomous. Stay back.”

Draco stepped into the grass as he watched the viper.

“Hey, little guy,” he greeted.

The viper didn’t move. Draco took another step toward it.

“Draco, what are you doing?” Harry asked.

Draco watched as the snake sniffed curiously in his direction.

“He’s scared, and probably lost.”

“How can you tell?”

“Body language.”

“You know snake body language?”

“Yep.”

Draco waited as the snake approached him and nudged his leg with its nose. He looked back at Harry, who looked terrified.

“It’s okay,” Draco smiled.

The snake crawled onto his hand then up his arm. Harry grabbed for his wand.

“Don’t!” Draco said, “Don’t hurt it.”

“That…that’s a wild snake. How in the hell…?”

“I don’t know,” the blonde answered, “They don’t seem to fear me, they never have.”

“You have a gift.”

Draco nudged the snake off him and it dropped safely to the ground.

“It’s not all snakes,” he approached Harry, “Some are friendlier than others.”

“That’s incredible.”

“Not as much as speaking with them.”

“I can’t do that anymore.”

“Oh. Right.”

Draco still flinched when Harry touched him, yet the contact of a cold-blooded reptile didn’t affect him. What does that say about him?

…

Harry cringed at the sight of the red-haired man who was huddled in the corner of one of the ministry holding rooms. Sweat drenched his hair and caused it to stick to his beaten face, his arms wrapped around his knees with fingers bent at unnatural angles, and he rocked slightly back and forth.

“Ron.”

Round, terrified eyes looked up at Harry.

“No,” Ron muttered, a mantra, “Not real. Not Harry. You’re not him.”

Ron crawled away when Harry approached him, which seemed to be painful with his fingers.

“Ron, it’s me, your best friend.”

Ron squeezed his eyes shut, “Go away.”

“Ron, you’ve known me since we were eleven,” Harry said, “We went into the forbidden forest together and met Aragog. And then, third year when we met Sirius and your pet Scabbers turned out to be…”

“Harry!” Ron tried to get up, but couldn’t, “It’s really you.”

“Yeah,” Harry crouched down next to Ron.

“They looked like you when they tortured me.”

Upon closer inspection, Harry saw that Ron’s lip was split. He also noticed his friend’s trembling.

“What did they do to you?” Harry asked.

“Used cruciatus…on me…”

“Your…your fingers…”

“They stomped on them.”

“I’ll fix them,” Harry took Ron’s hand and examined the fingers, noting the flinching upon touch.

Three on the left and two on the right, Harry fixed the damaged appendages.

“Anything else broken?”

“Don’t think so.”

“And your lip?”

“You hit…I mean, someone hit me.”

“I’m sorry, Ron.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“I know, but…”

“Forget about it.”

“Fine,” Harry agreed, “Will you let me look at your teeth? They might have knocked something loose.”

Ron opened his mouth.

“Lumos,” Harry put his wand near Ron’s mouth and tried to look for anything broken. All he saw was a black and blue tongue.

“Did you bite your tongue?”

Ron nodded, “During a curse.”

Harry winced in sympathy.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Let’s go,” Harry grabbed Ron’s wrist.

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

…

“Hermione!” Ron shouted upon seeing her at Harry’s house.

“Ron, what happened to you?” Hermione hugged her husband.

“I wanted to show you two something…or, someone,” Harry said.

Harry went off to the study to find Draco, who was reading again.

“Draco, you know Ron and Hermione?”

“Yeah.”

Draco put his book down, stood up, and went with Harry off to the living room.

“Draco?” Hermione asked.

“Hello.”

“Guys,” Harry began, “Draco’s been in prison…You know that, but…He’s been through a lot. He…we’re…”

Draco grabbed Harry’s hand comfortingly.

“Oh,” Ron raised his eyebrows in understanding.

“Harry, you never told us you liked men,” Hermione stated.

Harry stared blankly at his friends.

“I never meant for it to happen,” Harry explained, “When he was sent to live with me after his release…”

“We’re not angry, Harry,” Ron said, “At least, I’M not.”

Ron looked to Hermione, who looked at Draco.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

Draco looked surprised by her concern but remained silent.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Harry said.

“Oh,” Hermione said.

“Is he the reason I was arrested?”

“No. Well, not exactly, but…”

“You little…” Ron approached Draco, who dropped to the ground, cowering.

“It wasn’t him,” Harry defended, “Percy was…I don’t think he meant for it to happen…”

“For what to happen?” Ron backed off but still eyed Draco.

“Draco shared some memories with me,” Harry explained, “He was…used…by some members of the ministry. Percy saw the memories in the pensieve and…he was angry, angrier than I’ve ever seen him. He went to someone who could…bring them to justice.”

“Death eaters,” Ron finished, “He went to death eaters.”

“Yeah,” Harry answered.

Draco looked back up at Ron and Hermione but stayed in a sitting position.

“That’s not like him,” Ron said, “He’d make a case, hold a trial.”

“I thought so, too,” Harry said, “Then, I saw the article, right after he’d told me how angry he was.”

“But…but it’s DRACO!” Ron said.

“That means he deserves what happened to him?” Harry snapped.

“No, of course not!” Ron answered, “Percy, the ministry loving, suck up, working with death eaters…because of Draco. I just can’t believe it.”

“I know. Maybe that’s why seeing ministry members…hurt Draco like that…people he knew, worked with, worked under…were corrupt. And then, when one of them found out, they…”

“They what?” Ron demanded, “Did something happen with Percy?”

“Just, forget I said that.”

“No! What happened to him?”

“Ask Percy,” Harry said, “I’m not supposed to say.”

Ron contemplated this.

“He saw the memories,” Ron recalled, “Did he use your pensieve?”

Harry nodded.

“Could I see it?”

“You want to watch me suffer?” Draco asked.

“No,” Ron answered, “Just…it’s unbelievable.”

“It would make you sick,” Harry said, “Both of you.”

“Sh…show them,” Draco said, “What they wrote on me.”

“You’re sure?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

Harry touched Draco with the tip of his wand. Ron and Hermione watched in horror as the scarred words appeared on his body. Their arch enemy, their rival…scarred and broken, not even daring to look at them. Hermione whimpered with sympathy as she looked away. Ron put an arm around her shoulder to comfort her.

“Who…who did that to you?” she asked.

“Guards,” Draco answered, “Magic or wand contact make the words appear. I can never use magic again.”

A wizard, unable to use magic. Harry took his wand away and the marks disappeared.

“There has to be a way to get rid of this,” Hermione said.

Draco shook his head.

“It seems to be a simple hex,” Hermione said, “I have plenty of books on hexes. Maybe I can find something.”

“You’ll help me?” Draco asked.

“I’ll try,” Hermione answered, “Draco, I don’t hate you…anymore. What happened to you was…terrible, and I can see that you’ve changed. You deserve help.”

“Thank you, Hermione.”

…

Hermione searched through her ‘Hexes and How to Reverse Them’ book, with Ron sitting next to her.

“Are you all right, Ron?” She asked, then, upon seeing his face, “Of course not. You’ve just been tortured by your best friend.”

“Someone who LOOKED like him,” Ron corrected, then sighed in defeat, “Polyjuice potion. Hell, it could have been a whole lot of them. I can’t even look Harry in the eye. I just keep hearing those things they said, how he hates me, how he wished I’d died…Have to keep reminding myself it’s not him.”

“Did they torture you as him?”

Ron nodded.

“I can just feel his fingers around my throat,” he shuddered, “His fist across my face…Whispering in my ear how I’ll die at his hands…And his laughter.”

Ron closed his eyes.

“I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t him,” he continued, “That the real Harry would come save me, or my family would…”

Hermione took his hand, and he opened his eyes.

“Did you find anything?” he pointed to the book.

“On skin writing? No, not yet.”

“Those are cuts,” Ron said.

“What?” Hermione asked in horror.

“Someone, or some people, probably, cut those words into his skin. Probably using a knife or something similar.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, “Just…why…”

“It’s Azkaban,” Ron shrugged.

“Right,” she settled, “I didn’t look at them very long.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I…thought they were written with a wand,” Hermione whimpered, “Poor Draco.”

Ron gave her an odd look.

“Too uneven,” Ron explained, “The marks had different handwriting and size. The hexes make the words reappear.”

“So, the guards…”

“The guards are the only ones allowed wands,” Ron said, “The inmates must have given him the marks, and the guards hexed him so that…”

“He won’t use magic,” Hermione finished.

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t…he doesn’t deserve…”

“I know,” Ron said, “And I don’t doubt that his old dark mark had an effect on his treatment there.”

“How could they do that to him?”

She teared up. Crying, over someone who had once despised her.

“I don’t know,” Ron said.

“The words…’slut’, ‘whore’, ‘filthy’…” she continued.

“Yeah, I did,” Ron commented sadly, “We should…join Harry for dinner.”

“Draco won’t want to look at us.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

…

Draco was nervous having the trio at the dinner table with him, instead of just Harry. Ron, the one he’d once thought of as a ‘blood traitor,’ and Hermione, who he’d once thought a ‘mudblood’, seemed to hold no grudge for him or what he had once done.

“Hungry, Draco?”

The blonde shook his head. He noticed that Ron seemed just as uninterested in eating.

“Draco, you don’t have to be afraid of us,” Hermione said.

Would she hurt him? What about Ron? Would Harry allow that? It was all too much.

“Ron and Hermione are only staying a few days,” Harry explained, “Until I can be sure that Ron is…okay.”

“I told you I was fine,” Ron said.

“You didn’t seem fine when we talked a few minutes ago,” Hermione said.

Ron glared at her.

“Harry, I’m fine,” he said.

“Look me in the eyes and repeat that,” Harry said.

Ron forced his gaze toward Harry’s face.

“I’m fine,” he squeaked, then looked back at his food.

“You’ve been tortured by your best friend,” Draco commented, “Well, someone who looked like him. No one would expect you to be okay after that.”

“So, why am I being made to stay at his house?”

“He has a point,” Draco turned to Harry.

He expected Harry to be upset with him, but Harry just chuckled, which seemed to make Ron nervous.

“Overnight,” Harry complied, “Please, Ron. And you two can leave in the morning.”

Ron sighed and looked to Hermione.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Hermione said, “But I’ll leave it up to you.”

“Fine. But we’re leaving right after breakfast.”

…

**_“Stay still,” a low voice whispered._ **

**_Draco felt a cold blade on his throat, a mad smile glaring at him. Ron._ **

**_“Don’t…” Draco whispered._ **

**_“Don’t?” Ron laughed madly, “I’m gonna scalp you, Malfoy!”_ **

**_Ron laughed again as Draco screamed. The redhead grabbed Draco’s hair and the blonde closed his eyes. He felt Ron’s lips, cracked but soft, pressed against his._ **

**_“Stop!” Draco said, “Harry!”_ **

**_“He can’t hear you,” Ron said, “Now, open your eyes.”_ **

**_Ron forcibly pried Draco’s eyes open._ **

**_“What does he see in you?” Ron wondered, “Can’t be your looks…or your personality. So, what is it?”_ **

**_Ron glanced toward Draco’s underwear._ **

**_“Ooh,” the redhead noted, “Is that it? You good in bed, Malfoy?”_ **

**_Draco glared._ **

**_“That’s it, isn’t it?” Ron asked, “I struck a nerve?”_ **

**_“Get away from me!” Draco spat, “Harry! Hermione!”_ **

**_“She won’t help you either,” the redhead grinned evilly._ **

 

“Harry?” Draco panicked.

How had he fallen asleep on Harry’s couch? He hated couches. He was afraid of couches. Well, not literally.

“No, it’s Ron.”

Draco panicked upon seeing the redhead, and, upon trying to sit up, fell off the couch.

“You okay?” Ron went to help him.

“Don’t touch me!” Draco stood up, “And…I’m fine.”

“Nightmare?”

Draco just nodded.

“Me too,” Ron said.

“They used…crutiatus on you?”

Ron stared at him.

“Harry told me.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Do you still want to see the pensieve?”

“I don’t think so,” Ron said, “Harry gave me…the details…”

Draco took in Ron’s features, his long red hair, muscular arms and full face…Oh. Is this how his dreams want to treat attraction now?

“What did he tell you?” Draco asked.

“That they broke you,” Ron said, “Specifically, the ministry broke you.”

“Right.”

“Draco…”

“I’m off to bed.”

“Night.”

 

Draco ascended the stairs, into the bathroom, unable to face Harry. **Oh, you are filthy, aren’t you? Maybe you do deserve it.** **But, the healer said…But what do YOU think?** Thoughts of Ron and his athletic body entered his mind. **Stop. Stop it! If Harry found out you were lusting after his best friend…**

…

Luckily, Hermione and Ron left that morning after breakfast. However, Draco spent all of said breakfast trying to avoid eye contact with Ron, opting to steal glances at his face and muscular structure.

“Why were you looking at him like that?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Stealing glances,” Harry answered.

“Oh.”

“Are you attracted to Ron?”

“No!” Draco shouted, “I mean, no.”

Draco took a step away from Harry.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, “Ron’s a nice looking guy. Hermione’s pretty lucky.”

“I keep thinking about him,” Draco admitted, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re allowed to be attracted to other men, Draco.”

Draco stared at him.

“You don’t need to feel guilty,” Harry continued, “It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just…”

“Lust,” Draco finished.

“If you want to call it that.”

“Feels wrong.”

“I’m sure a lot of things feel wrong to you,” Harry comforted, “Doesn’t mean they are.”

“I hate that I’m like this,” Draco whined miserably.

“After five years of…”

“Why ME?” Draco shouted, “There were at least three thousand other inmates in that place, why did they choose me? What did I do to deserve…”

“Nothing,” Harry answered.

“You’re wrong! I had it coming, after all the shit I’ve done, I had it coming!”

“No, Draco.”

“I enjoyed it, when they fucked me. It felt good…I wanted more.”

“You were crying,” Harry corrected, “You were begging for it to stop. They stripped and humiliated you.”

“Don’t you get it?” Draco snapped, “I don’t deserve you! I don’t deserve to be treated this kindly by YOU!”

Draco started breathing heavily, his eyes filled with tears.

“Come here,” Harry said.

Draco let himself be held by Harry until he calmed down.

“I don’t care what you’ve done anymore,” Harry said, “I love you, here and now.”

The blonde kissed Harry, who grabbed the back of Draco’s head.

“Mmm,” Draco pulled away and kissed Harry’s neck.

“What are you doing, Draco?”

“I love you, too,” Draco said.

He grabbed Harry’s hips and continued kissing his neck.

“Please,” Draco pleaded.

“Please what?”

“I want this, Harry.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

Harry led Draco to the bedroom. Draco was nervous, of course, but allowed Harry to remove his trousers. **He won’t hurt me. He won’t.**

“Ready?” Harry asked.

Draco’s heart raced.

“Yes.”

“D…do you want me inside you?”

“Yeah.”

“Hang on,” Harry whispered, and kissed Draco’s ear. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small bottle, “This will make it a bit…easier.”

It felt good, so good, to have Harry touching him.

“Anytime you want to stop, say so,” Harry said.

Draco nodded. Harry removed his own trousers and spread some of the liquid from the bottle on his cock.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.”

Draco squeaked when he felt Harry inside him.

“Sorry,” Harry said.

“S’okay. Feels good. Keep going.”

Draco grabbed the bedsheets instinctively. Best you’ll ever have, my ass. His breathing quickened, his heart sped, and he groaned with pleasure. He could feel movement, Harry’s body moving with his own.

“I love you,” Draco moaned.

Harry finished with a kiss to Draco’s mouth. It didn’t hurt. There was no pain, no shame.

“Did you like that, Draco?” Harry touched Draco’s hair.

Draco laughed. **He cares. He cares what you want, what you like.** He didn’t realize he was tearing up.

“Draco, I’m sorry,” Harry pleaded, “Did I…do something? Did I hurt you? I knew I shouldn’t have…”

“No, I’m just…surprised, I guess.”

“Surprised?”

“I lost my virginity in Azkaban,” Draco admitted, “They didn’t care if it felt good on my end. It was all for them.”

Harry put an arm around Draco.

“Couldn’t do this without your input, Draco,” Harry smiled.

“Should we clean up?” Draco asked.

He didn’t feel dirty, just sticky.

“If you want.”

…

George stared at Percy as the older one descended the stairs sleepily. Percy sighed.

“Well?” Percy said, “Go ahead and yell at me. Disown me if you want.”

“You talk in your sleep,” George informed.

“What?”

“You wanted something to stop,” George said.

“You know the reason we’re in hiding, right?” Percy asked, “Because of me?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s something else you don’t know,” Percy added, “But I can’t tell you.”

“More secrets.”

“Except this doesn’t affect anyone but me.”

“Sure about that?” George challenged.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Percy glared, “But, if you really want to know, ask Bill and Charlie.”

“Is this ‘something else’ what’s giving you nightmares?”

“It might be,” Percy squeaked.

“You can tell me,” George assured him.

“I can’t,” Percy said, “I really can’t.”

“What could be worse than working with death eaters?”

“Seeing them hurt you! Or Ginny! They’ve already got Ron…”

“Death eaters found Ron?”

“Not the death eaters, George. The damn ministry!”

“Wh…”

“They’ve been corrupt for decades,” Percy explained, “Since the first Wizarding War. Trading favors, trading family members for prison sentences.”

“Favors?”

Percy winced.

“Promise me you won’t give them anything,” He said, “Just, let me be sent to Azkaban if it comes to it.”

“I can’t just…”

“Promise me you won’t let them use you! Please.”

“Fine,” George relented, “I promise.”

“Tell Ginny and Ron the same.”

…

Draco still woke with nightmares that night. Apparently, the sex had opened the floodgates of his pain, not that they’d ever closed much. He saw Harry in a new light: someone who gave a damn how he felt, someone he could trust.

“Harry?” Draco whispered.

He watched as Harry continued to sleep peacefully.

“You’re cute when you sleep,” Draco whispered, then closed his eyes.

…

“William, you do realize that this law was overwritten by Mr. Potter earlier this year?”

“It’s Bill.”

“Excuse me?”

Bill sighed, “Don’t act like you care about the law now. Surely, you can find a loophole somewhere.?

“You’d go to prison for your brother?”

“Percy’s too soft,” Bill asserted.

“Soft?”

“You heard me,” Bill answered, “I don’t want you near any of them. Stick me in prison and leave them alone. All of them.”

“On what charges?”

“Pick one,” Bill put his arms in front of him.

“Very well. William Weasley, you’re under arrest.”


	9. Bill

“No!” Percy sobbed, “No! He wasn’t supposed to…IDIOT!”

“Azkaban,” Charlie gulped.

“When…” George asked.

“Must have been a few days,” Ron said, “We saw him…last week.”

“Is he okay?” Ginny worried.

…

Bill picked his food as he peered around the prison kitchen. Something that claimed to be lasagna with a side of corn sat on his tray.

“They let a werewolf in here?” Bill’s eyes shot up to a conversation at the next table, and the man who’d made the remark looked away.

He wasn’t on the same floor as Draco had been. Cell number 1080, Block D, the ones who didn’t get a trial.

“Food here is shit, get used to it,” someone next to him said, “Name’s Lonny.”

“Lonny” Bill repeated, “I’m Bill.”

He looked like Ron, thin and muscular, but with brown hair, and probably the youngest kid in there. They’d almost gotten Ron, tortured him.

“People think you’re a werewolf?” Lonny asked.

“Who says I’m not?” Bill smirked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty,” Lonny said, “You?”

Even younger than Ron, younger than Ginny.

“Thirty-four,” Bill answered.

…

Draco processed what he’d just been told.

“How long is he going to be in there?” Draco asked.

“Don’t know,” Harry answered, “He wasn’t given a trial.”

The blonde closed his eyes. He’d gotten the Weasley’s into this.

…

It wasn’t until a week later that Bill saw Lonny again. Unfortunately, the kid was getting the hell beat out of him by one of the other prisoners. The prisoner was smaller than Bill, yet looked in his late twenties and had dirty brunette hair and harsh brown eyes.

“Get away from him,” Bill snarled.

The guy couldn’t even size up Bill but continued to glare.

“You got a fuckin’ problem?”

“Yeah, I said get away from him.”

“Gonna make me?”

Bill quickly had the prisoner shoved against the wall, arm twisted behind his back in an uncomfortable position. The prisoner squeaked as Bill continued to bend the arm.

“I could pop your arm out of its socket,” Bill said casually.

“What do you want with him anyway?” the prisoner asked, “He’s a damn mudblood!”

Bill let go of the man’s arm and shoved him away.

“He’s mine,” Bill growled, “Better not see you near him again.”

The prisoner ran off. **Coward** , Bill thought. He turned to Lonny, who backed away, terrified.

“Are you okay?” Bill asked.

Lonny nodded.

“Are you really a muggleborn?”

The younger man didn’t speak.

“I’m pureblood,” Bill said, “Not that it matters to me.”

“You…you’re Bill Weasley.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Your family’s all over the news.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what do you want with me?”

“You remind me of my brother,” Bill answered, “His name’s Ron.”

“So?”

“I want to keep you safe. Safe as you can be in prison, anyway.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done to get in here,” Lonny said.

“Do you know what I’VE done?”

“No.”

“Exactly. I’m taking you under my wing. Get used to it.”

…

“Are you insane?” Harry shouted at Bill from outside his cell.

Bill just shrugged. Harry had been given clearance to see Bill in prison after being there about a week.

“After all I’ve done to reverse this law,” Harry continued to rant, “After all Percy has done to protect your family.”

“They’ll be left alone,” Bill said, “Percy won’t be shoved in here. If anyone can handle Azkaban, it’s me.”

“No one should HAVE to handle anything!”

“Like it or not, Harry, Percy’s committed a crime.”

“And you want to serve his sentence?”

“He wouldn’t last in here,” Bill said, “And I’ll be damned if I let anyone else hurt my family again.”

“Percy feels horrible.”

“Well, tell him I’m fine,” Bill grumbled, “Not nearly as brutal as the floor Draco was on.”

“So, the guards…”

“Are fine. To me, anyway.”

…

The days and nights seemed to drown into each other until he realized it’d been three weeks since he’d been at Azkaban, and the boredom was driving him insane. Too, he noticed, that it was a full moon. Not that it meant anything to him.

“Suppose you’re not a werewolf, then?” someone taunted.

Bill looked back from the small bookshelf. He was allowed an hour in the library (which was basically just a desk and a very tiny bookshelf and a guard outside the door) for good behavior. The person who had spoken was the very same man who he’d defended Lonny from, surrounded by two unknown tall prisoners.

“What’s it to you?” Bill demanded.

The man scoffed.

“People are scared to touch you cause they think you’ll bite ‘em,” he spoke, “But not after this, they won’t.”

“After wh-” Bill stopped when the taller men rushed for him and grabbed his arms.

Three against one. Not too bad. Bill struggled to free himself, kicking the men with his feet, to no avail. **Why can’t he fight?**

“What did you do?” Bill demanded.

“See that guard outside?” the man pointed, “Good friend. Had him put a little charm on you. Makes your body a bit…weaker.”

**Cheating bastard!**

“What do you want?” Bill asked.

He was scared at that point.

“You should’ve minded your own damn business,” the man approached him.

Bill felt a punch to his face before being thrown to the ground. Before he could get up, however, he was kicked. Just like Percy, except, there’s more of them. His punches fell flat and he continued to be kicked and punched by the three men.

“Had enough,” one of them spoke.

Bill managed to land a punch to someone’s face and a kick to another’s shin. A kick to his own stomach made him cough. He wanted to pass out, or fight them away from him, but he was basically powerless.

“Stop…” Bill practically whispered. He realized that he was crying.

…

“They let him send letters in prison?” Percy wondered.

“Not exactly,” Harry said, “But I brought him some pen and paper on my last visit. Told him to write something.”

Percy looked at the letter, “This…is just a bunch of dots and dashes. Is this a joke?”

“No,” Charlie said, “It’s something Bill and I use. Muggles call it Maurice Code. Let me see.”

Percy handed Charlie the letter.

“Charlie,” the older brother read aloud, “I’m afraid to leave my jail cell. I was attacked last night. I know how Percy feels, being powerless, being unable to fight. Please don’t let him…know...about…this…”

Charlie stopped.

“Keep reading,” Percy said.

“No. He doesn’t…”

“Read!” Percy demanded.

“He’ll just feel guilty,” Charlie continued, “Tell him I’m okay.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Percy cried, “This shouldn’t have happened!”

Charlie folded the letter.

“Harry, stand back,” he took out his wand.

“What are you doing?” Percy asked.

“I’m going to make you forget this letter,” Charlie answered, “So you don’t do anything stupid.”

“Don’t you dare!” Percy yelled.

“Obliviate,” Charlie cast the spell and watched as his brother reoriented himself, “Percy?”

“What were we talking about?”

“Bill,” Charlie answered, “Harry went to see him.”

“He’s bored, mostly,” Harry lied, “Says the food’s shit.”

“Speaking of which,” Charlie continued, “Hungry, Percy?”

“Yeah.”

…

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said.

“You’re lying.”

“Something’s happened to Bill,” Harry answered, “He’s scared to leave his cell.”

“What happened?”

“He didn’t say. Just that he was attacked.”

Draco nodded.

“Don’t tell Percy. He’ll do something drastic.”

“Like last time.”

“Something like that.”

…

“What do you want?” Bill asked.

Lonny sat next to him.

“What happened to your face?”

“Don’t get smart,” Bill snapped.

“I didn’t…I meant your black eye.”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Yeah. No more questions.”

“Okay.”

**He would pay them back for what they did. He’s not weak. They just didn’t give him a fair fight.**

…

“What do we do?” Arthur asked.

Harry sighed. This mirrored Narcissa so much. Percy and Ron hurt, Bill in jail…

“I can get Bill out of prison,” Harry said.

“What about the charges?” Molly asked.

“There’s no evidence that Percy was involved in the killing of ministry members,” Harry said, “A group of aurors associated with Frank, the man who…attacked Percy, were the ones who’d arrested Ron, and probably the same who made the deal with Bill.”

“Does that mean our family can come out of hiding?” Arthur asked.

“I think you and Percy can go back to work,” Harry said, “If Percy is…willing to.”

“What about the aurors?”

“They’re under investigation.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Molly said.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Harry noted, “I’ve put protections on the Burrow, should you want to return.”

…

Bill glared at the man who had attacked him two weeks ago.

“What are you looking at?” the man demanded.

The Weasley grabbed the man by his shoulders into a standing position.

“The fuck are you-!”

The man yelled as he was clocked in the face.

“Not so fucking tough now, are you?” Bill taunted.

Adrenaline began to course through Bill as his fists connected and he dodged the man’s punches.

“Damn coward,” he snarled.

He gave the man another kick before leaving him unconscious and bloody on the floor


	10. Anger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for rape flashbacks/memories, coerced sex, and suicide attempt

It took Harry nearly a month to get Bill out of Azkaban. It was like the ministry forgot he even existed.

“Now what?” Bill asked after his release, “Just go home? Back to Fleur?”

He’d been in there for over two months. How could he just go back and pretend like nothing happened?

“I guess,” Harry said, “Or join your family at the Burrow.”

“How is Percy?”

“Better.”

“Right. Good. And Ron?”

“Also better.”

“I’ll see you, Harry.”

…

Fleur, of course, was thrilled to see Bill when he showed up at the cottage. Bill, on the other hand, wasn’t thrilled. He was angry, like he’d been ever since he’d been attacked. Even beating the hell out of that guy didn’t help. It was like something was unlocked in him.

“Bill…” she asked, “You are clearly not fine.”

Her voice was grating to him, not that it was her fault.

“Something happened in there,” she said.

“Nothing happened!” he roared, “Now, stop asking!”

She jumped at the sudden yell.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to…”

…

“Hey, Draco?”

“Hmm,” Draco continued to read his book.

“When’s the last time we had sex?”

This caught Draco’s attention.

“Couple weeks,” he answered, “Do you want to…”

“If you want, yeah.”

Draco trusted Harry so much more now. Harry respected him, loved him, was patient with him.

“Could I finish this chapter first?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, take your time,” Harry said sincerely, “No rush.”

…

Percy couldn’t help the feeling that he was forgetting something important, something relating to Bill’s time at Azkaban. He and Charlie had arrived at Shell cottage and were greeted by Fluer.

“Be careful with him,” Fleur warned, “He has gotten a temper since his release.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Fleur answered, “But, it is like…he is ashamed.”

“Ashamed,” Percy echoed.

“Talking about me?” Bill appeared behind Fleur, “Percy, Charlie, come in.”

Percy and Charlie entered the cottage. Something swam back into Percy’s head about a letter, dots and dashes.

“Powerless,” Percy realized.

“What?” Bill asked.

“You couldn’t fight back,” Percy recalled, “Afraid to leave your cell.”

Bill paled as he turned to Charlie.

“You weren’t supposed to tell him!” Bill yelled.

Percy watched with shock as Bill wrapped his fingers around Charlie’s neck, then Charlie struggle to get free. Before he could do anything, however, Fleur ran over and tried to pull Bill away.

“Stop!” she yelled.

That was when Bill turned and shoved her away violently, and she fell to the ground. Percy went to help her up.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Percy demanded.

Bill turned to his wife.

“Fleur, I…”

“Get…OUT!” she demanded, eyes filled with tears.

“Right,” Bill looked absolutely miserable as he apparated away.

…

“So, you hit her?” Harry asked.

Bill nodded. He didn’t know what had happened. The moment he heard Percy’s recalling of the letter, he lost his temper.

“And you strangled Charlie?”

He choked back a sob. How could he ever hurt his beloved brother? How could he hurt Fleur?

“I hadn’t meant to…I was just so…angry.”

“What happened to you?” Harry asked sympathetically.

“One of the guards put a charm on me,” Bill muttered, “I had the strength of a young boy.”

He scoffed.

“How many?”

“Three, but it’s not what you think.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I think it was a broom…and it was only for…a few seconds,” Bill shuddered.

Harry stared in horror as he realized what Bill meant.

“It doesn’t matter how short the attack was,” he said, “Anyway, why tell ME this, and not…”

“How could I tell her?” the Weasley scoffed, “She wouldn’t trust me as a protector of her family, of her children.”

“Fleur is pregnant?”

“No, but we’ve talked about it. Not that she’d even…”

“She’ll forgive you,” Harry said, “For hurting her.”

“What about my family?” Bill asked, “I’m the oldest, I’m supposed to be the big brother, the protector.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Exactly!” Bill yelled, “That’s just the fucking point! How am I supposed to keep them safe if I can’t even…”?

“That’s not your job.”

Bill took a deep breath to calm down.

“You don’t have siblings, so you don’t understand,” he explained, “When my dad was at work, and my mum was too tired or sick, I took care of them. I made dinner, gave them baths, put them to bed, even changed a few nappies. I was there for each of their births. And, after Fred…I just can’t bear to have another one of them...”

“Just tell Fleur and Charlie that you’re sorry,” Harry said, “Especially Fleur. She’ll accept you back.”

“Like an abuser,” Bill spat.

“You’re not like that.”

“How do you know? I could have killed Charlie.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Harry said, “Maybe bring Charlie here.”

“Don’t tell her.”

“I won’t. That’ll be up to you.”

…

“I am not mad at him,” Fleur said, “I am worried.”

“He’s okay, right?” Charlie asked.

“Fine,” Harry answered, “He just…feels guilty.”

“He has told you what has happened?” Fleur asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “He might tell you, eventually.”

“I know what happens in those prisons,” Fleur said.

“Something like that.”

“Then it is not his fault,” Fleur defended, “He has nothing to be ashamed of.”

“He doesn’t think that,” Harry said, “He was given a weakening charm when he was attacked.”

“Makes sense he’s angry,” Charlie said.

“I want him to get his temper under control,” Fleur said, “Please tell him this.”

…

“Percy?” Bill asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I visit Harry a lot,” Percy answered.

“Are they angry, Perce?”

“They’re worried about you,” Harry said, “Fleur wants you to…get help for your anger.”

“Is she afraid of me?” Bill asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“And Charlie?”

“Fine,” Percy answered, “He wants to visit.”

“Okay.”

…

Bill woke up around ten in the morning to find his smiling brother in the kitchen.

“Hey, Bill,” Charlie said.

He noticed the faint bruising on Charlie’s throat.

“Charlie, I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” Charlie shrugged, “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a fight.”

“I could have killed you!”

“Don’t be overdramatic. You’ve dangled me out of a window before if I recall correctly.”

“I need help,” Bill admitted.

Charlie squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

“I’m here for you,” he said, “So is Percy, and the rest of the family.”

“I can’t tell them,” Bill said, “I won’t.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone, but they want to see you.”

“Charlie, I’m the eldest. I’m supposed to hold it all together.”

“You are,” Charlie agreed, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t go to us for help. We’re not going to change our opinion of you because of this.”

“Do you think I did the right thing?”

“I think you did what you had to.”

“Still, Fleur will never look at me the same.”

“That’s not true,” Charlie assured him, “She doesn’t love you any less.”

“Dad always told us never to hit a woman, and what do I go and do?”

“You were in a panic,” Charlie defended, “Percy blurted out something you didn’t want anyone to know, and…I read that damn letter out loud…and I tried to obliviate him.”

“You obliviated him?” Bill snapped.

Charlie flinched.

“Even you’re afraid of me, Charles.”

“No. You just scared me for a second. I’m not ‘afraid’ of you.”

“I can’t come home,” Bill said miserably.

“Please visit the Burrow. We WANT to see you. Mum and Dad are worried.”

“All right, then.”

…

Percy’s eyes sported a glossy look, similar to Ron’s at the moment.

“One more shot?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Percy giggled.

Two months on and Percy couldn’t get over what happened to him. Neither could Ron, for that matter. The whole family knew what happened to them.  They were the only ones who didn’t pity each other.

“You’re going to kill your livers,” Bill, who’d found them in the muggle bar they frequented, spoke.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Ron asked.

“Well, for one, your wife’s looking for you,” Bill answered, “And two, someone has to keep you two from getting piss drunk.”

“Whiskey, Bill?” Percy asked.

“One,” Bill agreed, “Then, we’re leaving.”

“Agreed,” Ron said.

 

One hour later, the three exited the bar, laughing hysterically.

“You know something?” Bill slurred as they apparated to the Burrow, “I don’t even think it counted as rape…So…so why the hell does it upset me so much?”

“Wait a second…what?” Ron asked.

“In Azkaban,” Bill explained, “Pissed a guy off ‘cause I was defending someone, and…well, he ganged up on me…Ah, Ron, don’t make me say it...It was…with an object…”

“Did you go to the hospital?” Ron asked, “You could get…infected.”

“It’s been a month. Don’t think I’d miss an infection in my…”

“Still, you should go to St. Mungo’s.”

“’Kay,” Bill agreed.

The three walked inside the house, where Hermione was sporting a baby belly and eating cheesecake.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

“Hey, you…be nice to my brother,” Bill said with fake anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were out drinking?” Hermione asked, “I was worried sick! And, YOU, Bill, I told you to find them and tell me if they were okay and what do you do? You go off and get drunk!”

“I’m fine,” Ron defended.

“Last time you went off on your own, you were captured and tortured.”

“I was with Percy!”

“And he’s supposed to fight off rogue aurors?” she snapped.

Percy looked like he’d just been slapped.

“What are you implying?” he asked coldly.

“Oh, Percy, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“RON trusts me to keep him safe,” Percy said, then walked away.

“Ron, I hadn’t meant to upset him,” Hermione said, “I wasn’t referring to…to THAT.”

“I know you didn’t,” Ron said, “You’re just worried and Percy will understand in the morning, when he sobers up.”

“How is my future niece or nephew?” Bill asked.

“Fine,” Hermione replied, “Excellent, actually. Perfectly healthy and ready to be born in about three months.”

Bill smiled, and Ron was absolutely beaming.

…

 “You do have an infection, Mr. Weasley,” the healer spoke.

“Please, call me Bill.”

“Bill, when you were examined, we found tearing, indicative of sexual assault.”

“When they…my attackers…they sodomized me with something…like a broom…”

“There’s…more.”

“Which is?”

“Your infection,” the healer informed, “You have Gonorrhea.”

“What?”

“It’s perfectly treatable with the right…”

“No,” he begged, “I…they didn’t…I would have remembered if they…”

“Your brain may have blocked out the incident,” the healer suggested, “The tears were…rather severe, and appeared to have been healed magically.”

“So…you’re saying they raped me?” Bill asked.

“I’m saying that it’s probable.”

“So, what? I zoned out while they raped me?”

“The trauma may have been too great for your brain to handle, so you would have went somewhere else inside your head while it was happening. There’s also the possibility that…”

“That what?”

“That your memory was wiped.”

“How can I tell my wife?”

“You mentioned your wife is very kind and caring?”

“Of course.”

“Then, surely, she’ll understand,” the healer answered, “Now, let me get you your potions for the STD and we can talk about getting you a mental healer, if you’d like.”

“Yeah. I think I need it.”

…

**“What the hell is wrong with him?” someone spoke.**

**“Is he dead?” another voice.**

**“No,” a third voice.**

**“Fuck. He’s not moving,” the first person spoke.**

**“Get out of here,” a fourth voice spoke, “I’ll clean up.”**

 

“Bill,” Ginny interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, H…hey, Gin,” Bill greeted.

“You were having a flashback.”

“I think so.”

“Something happened to you in Azkaban.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I was attacked,” Bill explained, “I made some guy angry and…he and couple of friends ambushed me in the prison’s library, had a guard put a weakening charm on me…”

He stopped, not wanting to burden his younger sister with this information.

“And they raped you?” Ginny guessed.

“I don’t know,” Bill answered, “For whatever reason, I can’t remember.”

He flinched lightly when she rubbed his back.

“That’s why you’ve been standing with your back to the wall,” she figured, “Or why you walk behind everyone now. Subconsciously, you know what happened, and it scares you.”

Bill felt tears fall from his eyes. He instinctively leaned on Ginny as she hugged him.

“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you,” he noted, “Being the oldest and all.”

“It’s you who needs help at the moment,” she said lightly.

She gripped his shoulder comfortingly.

 

**Nails dug into his shoulders, snarling laughter broke out behind him as another hand pulled his hair.**

**“You like your hair pulled?” the laughing voice mocked.**

 

“GET OFF!” Bill roared, “Get off me!”

He hardly noticed Ginny stand up and back away from him as he was ripped back into the memory. The floodgates had opened.

“Stop,” Bill pleaded, “Please…”

“Bill,” Ginny’s voice sounded so distant, “It’s okay.”

**No. No, it is not**. Bill started to whimper as the memories played like a muggle film in front of him. He no longer saw his sister, or the room he knew he was sitting in.

“Bill! You’re scaring me!”

He held perfectly still, staring ahead as he tried to ignore what was happening. Not happening. Happened.

“Mum!” Ginny yelled, an echo, “Dad!”

“What’s the problem?” Charlie entered the room at some point.

“It’s Bill. He’s…he just started screaming and…now he’s just sitting there.”

“Percy and Ron do that too. Not to this extent, though. I’ll take care of him.”

…

Charlie kneeled at eye level with his brother.

“Bill?” he asked carefully, “Do you know where you are?”

“The Burrow,” Bill answered, body and eyes unmoving.

“Right,” Charlie said, “So, you’re safe.”

“It hurts, Charlie.”

“I know. But it’s over.”

“I’m scared,” Bill said, “I can’t say that to anyone else.”

Bill closed his eyes.

“I was obliviated, I think. At least, partially.”

“Oh?”

“It came back so suddenly,” Bill explained, “When Ginny touched my shoulder.”

Bill shuddered.

“What happened?”

“Don’t. Just…don’t.”

“Okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

Bill opened his eyes.

“I want to talk to Draco,” he said.

“Okay,” Charlie agreed, “Sure.”

…

“Do you want to show me in the pensieve?” Draco asked.

“It’s not all there,” Bill said.

“I can fill in the blanks,” Draco said, “I mean, if you want.”

“Give me a vial, please.”

Draco tossed him a vial, which Bill took and used his want to put the memory into it.

“All right,” Draco said, “Follow me, then.”

Bill followed Draco up the stairs to the pensieve, then watched as Draco poured the liquid into it.

“Be prepared,” Bill warned.

…

“How do you like it?” one of the men had Bill’s arm twisted behind his back and was pinning him against a table.

Bill lie limp as his arm was snapped. He yelped and Draco flinched.

 

The memory flickered, what looked like minutes later, Bill was still pinned against the table, broken arm limp at his side while one of the inmates was…Draco looked away.

“Answer me, you piece of shit!” the man said.

Bill only whimpered.

 

There was another time skip, another part of the memory.

“Get up!” someone shouted. Upon glance, Draco knew it was a guard.

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

“Is he dead?”

“No,”

“Fuck. He’s not moving,” the first person spoke.

“Get out of here,” the guard spoke, “I’ll clean up.”

The inmates left and Draco looked closer at Bill, who was shoved to the ground, bleeding from more than one place, lying directly on his broken arm.

“Bill…” Draco mumbled.

The guard set Bill’s arm and fixed it, then stopped his bleeding, vanishing the blood.

“I know you’re awake,” the guard spat, “Or not.”

He unzipped his pants. Draco looked away again.

“You won’t feel a thing.”

 

The memory shifted. Bill was back in his cell, looking confused. A guard, the same one from earlier, stood in front of him.

“They stuck a broom up your ass,” he spoke mockingly, “That’s what you’re gonna tell everyone. And you’re gonna keep me out of it.”

“Okay,” Bill said, confunded.

“I’ll see you later,” the guard whispered, “William.”

**No,** Draco thought. **Not him too.**

 

Another memory. A separate one.

“Hello again, William,” the guard from before greeted.

Bill was smiling, like he was drunk with…oh, no. Bill had been given a love potion.

“I’ve missed you, Reggie,” Bill spoke.

**First name basis…They’d done this before.** The guard entered Bill’s cell. The Weasley tried to kiss him but was pushed away.

“Get on your knees, William,” Reggie said.

“I...I don’t want…”

Reggie slapped Bill across the face.

“That was not a question!”

Bill only continued smiling as he lowered himself to his knees.

…

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Bill pulled Draco out of the memory.

“How many times did he do that to you?” Draco asked.

“I…didn’t mean to give you that memory.”

“How many times, Bill?”

“How many times did I cheat on my wife? How many times did I willingly fuck Reggie? I can only recall two. Maybe there were more, who knows?”

“He wiped your memory?”

Bill nodded.

“You didn’t cheat,” Draco assured him, “Reggie manipulated you using love potions, so you wouldn’t fight him. Then he wiped your brain. He’s a coward, they’re all cowards.”

“But…love potion doesn’t FORCE you to have sex,” Bill said, “And…it forces obsession, but it’s based on your own attraction.”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean you like men.”

“Then, what DOES it mean?” Bill asked, “Because, from here it looks like I gave in to him, like I WANTED him.”

“That’s probably not true. Look, maybe he had a really strong potion that could overlook the whole attraction thing.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Bill, don’t let this eat at you. He knew what he was doing, that’s why he erased your memory. You’re most likely straight.”

Bill peered at him.

“Sorry, tangent,” Draco said, “My point is…you didn’t willingly have sex with him.”

“Well, he sure as hell didn’t force me!”

Draco sighed.

“Fine,” he said, “Whatever you say. Are you going to tell Fleur?”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Bill said, “Neither are you.”

“Agreed.”

…

Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror. It was because of him that Percy was raped, Bill was imprisoned and abused, and Ron was tortured. It was because of him that the Weasleys had to go into hiding.

“You don’t deserve him,” he mumbled.

He’d endangered Harry’s friends. He never should have shared those memories. Draco searched the cabinet behind the mirror, where Harry kept small bottles of cleaning supplies. Any combination of those would probably kill him.

“I won’t cause you any more trouble.”

He picked up a bottle of red stuff about the size of his hand that smelled like bleach and downed it, painfully and slowly. His throat burned **. Of course, that wouldn’t be enough**. The next one was green **…like Harry’s eyes…** and tasted like soap. He didn’t finish that one before collapsing to the ground.


	11. Reggie

“Draco!” Harry screamed as he found his boyfriend lying on the bathroom floor next to a spilled bottle of cleaning liquid, “What did you do?”

Retching noises came from Draco’s throat. **He’s choking** , Harry realized, and he turned Draco on his side where the blonde vomited, then gasped for air.

“I’m right here, Baby,” Harry helped Draco sit up, “Can you hear me?”

Draco threw up again, this time into the toilet.

“Better?” Harry asked.

The blonde fell weakly against Harry’s arms.

“Is that it?”

Draco nodded gently. Harry lifted his boyfriend and carried him, bridal style, to their room and lied him on the bed.

“What did you do?” Harry repeated.

The blonde didn’t answer.

“You wanted to die, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Draco squeaked, his voice sounding painful.

“Don’t talk,” Harry grabbed a quill and paper, “Here.”

Draco wrote: _I’m sorry_ and gave Harry the paper.

“Why?” Harry asked.

_The Weasley’s._

“What? They don’t want you dead!”

_I got them in trouble._

“No! That was Percy, that was the Death Eaters!”

_Bill was hurt by a guard._

“How?”

_Love potion and obliviation. I’m not supposed to tell you._

“And that made you try to kill yourself?”

_It’s been on my mind._

“How could you keep that from me?” Harry screamed, “After all the shit we’ve been through, and you choose to keep THIS…!”

He stopped. Draco had, to his horror, curled instinctively, into a fetal position.

“Draco?” Harry calmed down, “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

The blonde uncovered his face.

“I love you,” Harry said, “The thought that I could lose you, that you’ve been sitting around, wallowing in your guilt…”

Draco grabbed the quill and paper back from Harry.

_I saw Bill’s memory in the pensieve. What the guard did to him pushed me over the edge._

“Don’t blame yourself. Bill willingly went into prison.”

_He won’t accept it was rape._

“What exactly happened to him?”

_The guard that weakened him gave him a love potion a few times. Made him do sexual things, then obliviated him afterwards._

“Oh.”

_He thinks he cheated on his wife._

“I can’t imagine what he must be feeling,” Harry said, “Do you want a potion for your throat. It’s probably raw.”

Draco nodded.

“Or, would you rather go to St. Mungo’s?”

_I still feel sick._

“Hospital it is, then.”

…

Drinking helped Bill forget about the memories he’d retrieved, helped him forget about what he’d done with Reggie, what he’d allowed Reggie to do to him. He cringed as he remembered the touches, the kisses. Draco had been right: Bill had no interest in men.

“That doesn’t help, you know,” Percy entered Bill’s room.

Bill hid the vodka bottle.

“What doesn’t?”

“Drinking yourself silly,” Percy answered, “Doesn’t make you forget. Just makes your head hurt. Trust me.”

“Perce?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m straight.”

Percy gave him a strange look.

“Where are you going with this?” he asked.

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve…never even considered that I could like other men,” Bill said, “But, now…”

“Since you remembered?”

Bill hadn’t told him about Reggie’s visits, only about the library memory.

“Yeah.”

“Happens,” Percy shrugged, “It’s weird…uncomfortable, but it will pass.”

“You had it, too?”

“Definitely,” Percy said, “Could I sit?”

“Sure.”

Percy sat on the bed next to his brother.

“I know you never wanted me to find out,” Percy began, “And…I’m sorry for blurting it out in front of Fleur. Hell, I’m sorry for everything.”

Bill’s mind went to what Harry had told him about what Draco’s attempt yesterday.

“Ah, Perce. Don’t do what Draco did.”

“I wasn’t…Bill, I just don’t want you obsessing over this. If you’re sure, then you’re sure, and if you’re not…That’s fine, too.”

“Are YOU…”

Percy nodded.

“Doesn’t matter,” Percy said, “We’re not here to talk about my sexuality.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

“We’re talking about you, not me.”

“Right,” Bill said, “You don’t know the whole story.”

“Did it happen again?”

“THAT? No.”

Bill took another drink of vodka. Should he tell Percy? His brother just revealed that he was into men, something he was clearly keeping private. For a moment, he considered just staying quiet, and for a time, he did.

“Accio, vodka,” Percy retrieved the bottle directly out of Bill’s hands and put it aside, “Now, let’s go under the assumption that nothing you’ve done in Azkaban was consensual. What happened?”

“There was a guard named Reggie.”

“Was he the one in the library?”

“Yes. He gave me a love potion, then he would come to my cell and we’d…” Bill stopped, “We had sex. He would erase the memory, but only bits and pieces, and he’d leave the…feeling.”

“So you’d think you felt for him,” Percy concluded.

“Why was the feeling there in the first place?” Bill asked miserably.

“Because of the love potion!”

“Why did it work on me?”

“That’s what upsets you?”

“Since, I remembered, yes,” Bill answered, “Before, it was just…misdirected anger.”

“He brainwashed you, made you think the feelings were real. That would upset anyone.”

“Why?” Bill squeaked, “Why do any of that?”

“Because you were there? Because he liked you? Who knows?”

“I haven’t spoken to Fleur since she kicked me out last week.”

“She didn’t kick you out,” Percy said, “She’s been trying to get to you through us, trying to send you letters, but you’re ignoring her.”

“She sent me a letter.”

“Write her back! Bill, she’s your wife!”

“How can I? After what I’ve done…”

“You haven’t done anything. I told you…”

“I’ll write her,” Bill agreed.

“Wait until you’re sober,” Percy smiled, “Your drunk writing is atrocious.”

Bill laughed.

“Yeah. Could you leave me alone, Perce?”

“I’m taking the vodka,” Percy stood up and headed for the door, “See you, Bill.”

 

Bill grabbed the letter Fleur sent him the other day.

**_Bill,_ **

**_Please come back to the cottage. I miss you and I want to talk about this, about us. Whatever happened to you in Azkaban was not your fault. I do not want you to struggle alone with this._ **

**_-Fleur_ **

He penned a letter to her.

**_Fleur,_ **

**_Could you visit the Burrow tomorrow? I’ve missed you as well._ **

**_-Bill_ **

He addressed the letter and went off to find Pidwidgeon to send it.

…

“I found a spell to get rid of your hex,” Hermione said.

Draco had stayed at St. Mungo’s, voluntarily, after he’d attempted suicide. Along with Harry, Hermione came to visit him.

“You have?” Draco asked hopefully.

“I had to go international,” Hermione said, “The hex was actually Norwegian in origin…I doubt you care about that. Anyway, there is a spell to fix it.”

“What’s the catch?”

“You just assume there’s a catch?”

“There’s always a catch.”

Hermione sighed.

“The scars will appear on your body permanently,” she said, “But they can be covered up with concealing charms or creams.”

“I’ll be able to use magic again?”

“If you’d like, yes.”

He sighed happily. He hadn’t used magic since before he went to Azkaban.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Hermione took out her wand, then reached into her pocket to pull out a piece of paper.

“It’s nonverbal,” she said.

She pointed the wand at him and made eye contact for a moment before staring at him in horror.

“It worked,” she said.

Draco looked at his arms, the only part of his body uncovered by hospital blankets, where the words that had reappeared. He hadn’t seen the words in a while, hadn’t looked at them, and forgot how much they hurt.

“Being unable to use magic,” Draco began, “It’s…It’s been…I’ve felt so powerless.”

“At least the hex is gone,” Hermione smiled.

“You want to know something?”

“What?” Hermione sat down on the chair next to the hospital bed.

“I’m not sure I ever believed in the whole pureblood supremacy thing,” Draco admitted.

“Really?” she asked, interested.

“I grew up being told that I was better than…than people like you and…Ron…” he continued, “I acted how my family taught me.”

“You were surrounded by death eaters.”

“Essentially. Not that it excuses what I did or how I acted.”

“You did help us,” Hermione said, “Do you remember when Harry, Ron and I were taken to the Manor?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“You pretended not to recognize us.”

“I didn’t want you to die. I didn’t want Voldemort there again. But, I still let you be tortured.”

“That’s behind us,” Hermione said, “After all you’ve been through, it’s obvious you’ve changed.”

“I wasn’t cheering on Voldemort,” Draco said, “I didn’t even want to be a death eater.”

“He threatened your family.”

“I’m glad it’s over,” he said, “I just…I wish my father was still here.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died,” Draco said, “From drowning. In his prison cell. While he was sleeping.”

“Oh,” she went pale, “Draco, I’m so sorry.”

“My mother’s changed, too. She doesn’t even care that Harry and I are dating.”

“You two are good for each other.”

“Harry talks about you a lot at the Burrow,” Hermione said, “With me and Ron, mostly.”

“You live there?”

“Ron and I have a flat, but we spend a lot of time there. Molly insists on watching over me. That’s when my own parents aren’t smothering me.”

She laughed.

“What do the Weasley’s think of me?”

“Neutral, mostly,” she answered, “They can’t blame you for what Percy did, and they can’t be mad at Percy either.”

“Percy worked with death eaters and they’re okay with it?”

“Not exactly, but they can’t just disown him.”

“Are they all right?”

“No more legal trouble, I think,” she said, “Mentally, however, we’re all shaken.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll see you, Draco. And I’ll bring something to cover up the scars in public.”

“Thank you, Hermione.”

…

Fleur waited patiently as Bill explained what happened in Azkaban.

“Bill…”she comforted.

“I’m sorry,” Bill squeaked, “Fleur…”

She took her husband’s hand.

“I miss him,” Bill admitted, “I hate myself, but I miss him.”

“That is the love potion,” Fleur said, “That is why they are illegal in some places. Please don’t hate yourself, Bill. It is not your fault.”

Her heart ached for her beloved husband and how he was hurting. To have to suffer with this kind of manipulation for so long…it was sickening.

“I’ve been questioning things,” Bill continued, “Like, why I felt the way I did about him, and if any of it was…real.”

“It was not. He abused you. He did not care about you.”

“I love you, Fleur,” he said, “I don’t want this to ruin us.”

“Ruin us?”

“Yes.”

“This is why you’ve been avoiding me? You thought I would abandon you? For being raped, for questioning yourself?”

Bill was silent.

“You protected a young man,” Fleur began, “You defended him and kept him safe when most would simply ignore him.”

“He’s dead,” Bill said, “Lonnie’s dead!”

“When did he die? Where did you hear this?”

“His name and picture was in the obituaries. He died a few days after I got out. He was beat to death.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Was it all for nothing?”

“You kept him safe for the time he was alive,” she answered, “Like I said, most people wouldn’t care to bother with him, but you did. You decided to protect him.”

 “A lot of good that did.”

“While he was alive, yes. Were you expecting to stay in Azkaban and protect him forever? Even when you were released?”

“I didn’t think I’d be released that soon,” Bill answered, “He was so damn young, he didn’t deserve this!”

“I know. It is terrible he died, but there was nothing you could have done.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, but…he was just a kid. He was younger than Ginny.”

Fleur caressed Bill’s hand.

“You need help,” she spoke sympathetically.

“I know. I’m going to be seeing a mental healer.”

“Good.”

He’d told Fleur about the STD treatment he was getting.

“Do you want me back at the cottage?”

“I’d like that, yes,” Fleur said, “Just, please tell me everything from now on. Everything you’re feeling. I will listen, without judgement.”

“Okay.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“It’s been hell without you,” he said, “Two damn months…”

“I have missed you as well.”

…

“Reggie, you say,” Jack pondered.

“No,” Percy said, “Forget I said anything.”

“Forget that your brother’s been wrongly jailed and brainwashed?” Jack said sarcastically, “Not a problem.”

“I’m serious.”

“The whole damn system’s fucked,” Jack said, “I’ve been saying that for years, but no one will listen.”

“My family’s been through enough,” Percy said, “We’re in enough trouble already without you going and…”

“All right, fine.”

Jack did something strange: he touched Percy’s hand.

“What are you playing at?” Percy demanded, pulling his hand away.

“How long have we known each other, Percy?”

“A few years. Why?”

“I didn’t think the Ministry would do this for your family,” Jack explained, “In hindsight, I probably should have…but, I don’t want you or your family hurt. Percy, I know what you think of me, but I still…”

Percy raised his wand, as if he knew what Jack was going to say.

“Put that down.”

“No. What are you planning on doing to me?”

The Weasley stepped away from the death eater.

“Nothing,” Jack said, “I wouldn’t hurt you, for fuck’s sake! I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I just wanted to tell you how I…felt.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that me telling you I liked men had nothing to do with it.”

“It does, but not the way you think. Percy, I’m not lying to you.”

“Y…you’re serious?”

“Yes!” Jack stepped forward.

“Don’t move any closer to me,” Percy said, “What were you expecting? A candle lit dinner?”

“I said nothing about candles or dinner.”

“You’re a death eater, Jack.”

“Are you saying you feel nothing?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Icarus.”

“What?”

“That’s my name. Icarus. But I prefer Jack.”

“I can’t.”

“Okay.”

Percy glared at Jack.

“Okay?” he asked.

“I can handle rejection,” Jack shrugged, “Don’t give me that look. You don’t have to be suspicious.”

Percy lowered his wand.

“I never said I didn’t feel anything,” he said, “Just that I can’t. My family would never accept me being with a death eater.”

“They don’t have to know. We can keep it secret.”

“No.” Percy said.

“Fine.”

“Do…do you still have people watching my family?”

“Yeah. do you want them to stop?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll call them off, then.”

…

Draco returned to Harry’s house after a few days in the hospital. He was on suicide watch and Harry promised to keep a close eye on him.

“Do you want to go get a new wand?” Harry asked.

The blonde looked at his boyfriend strangely.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “They broke yours before Azkaban, right?”

“Yep.”

“So, let’s go get a new one.”

“What about my scars?”

“I have some vanishing cream,” Harry said.

“Vanishing cream?”

“That’s what George calls it,” Harry answered, “He and Fred made it back before they opened the shop. It covers up scars, freckles, anything covering the skin.”

“It works?”

“Definitely,” Harry said, “Accio, vanishing cream!”

A small bottle flung down into the living room from upstairs, which Harry caught and handed to Draco.

“Put it on thin,” Harry said, “It’s a bit oily and smells like…”

“Citrus,” Draco uncapped the bottle.

Draco dipped his finger slightly into the bottle and rubbed the cream onto the words on his arm and watched the words disappear.

“It lasts for about twelve hours,” Harry said.

“It’s amazing!” Draco said, “George is a genius.”

“Fred helped make the recipe,” Harry said, “I think it was his idea in the first place.”

“Oh. He’s the one who…”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, “Anyway, you know Teddy, right?”

“Your godson.”

“He broke his toy wand again and I was going to go with George to buy him a new one. If you want to come along and get your own, we can go together.”

“Ollivander’s?”

“Yeah.”

“He won’t sell me a wand.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, first off, I’m a death eater.”

“WERE,” Harry corrected.

“And second, he was held captive at the Manor.”

“Not by you. I guarantee he doesn’t blame you. Draco, just give it a chance.”

“Okay.”

“Excellent,” Harry said, “We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon. You’ll love meeting Teddy.”

…

George watched the six-year-old Teddy as the child ran happily down the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes shop isles. He’d put up magical barriers to prevent Teddy from accessing most of the items on the shelves.

“Teddy, come here for a second,” George called.

Teddy ran over to his Uncle Georgie.

“Harry’s coming over in a few minutes.”

“Harry!” Teddy cheered.

“Yeah,” George said.

Outside, Harry apparated in front of the store, alongside Draco, who George had been told would tag along, both wearing thick winter robes and jumpers. Apparating in front of Teddy scared him, so everyone had to apparate outside when the child was around.

“Here he is,” George said, “Come on.”

Teddy followed George outside to Harry and Draco.

“Harry!” Teddy ran to his godfather and hugged him.

“Hello, Teddy,” Harry said, “Ready to go shopping?”

Teddy nodded excitedly, then looked to Draco.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

“That’s Draco,” Harry answered.

“Draco,” Teddy repeated.

“Yeah,” Harry encouraged.

Draco smiled at the young boy.

“Let’s go,” Harry said.

…

Draco followed the other three to Ollivander’s wand shop. After the war, Ollivander had opened the shop again. Unfortunately, Draco had never gotten the chance to see the reopened shop, or to apologize to the man.

“Teddy, let’s go look at the toy wands,” George said.

Toy wands looked just like real wands, except they only lit up at the end when the child shook them or attempted to cast a spell.

“Yeah!” Teddy yelled.

George and Teddy met Ollivander behind the counter.

“Hi, Mr. Ollie.”

“Hello, Teddy,” Ollivander greeted when he saw the boy, “Hello, George. How are you?”

“Fine,” George said, “Teddy broke his toy wand.”

“Shame,” Ollivander said, “I assume you know where to find them.”

George snickered.

“Harry’s here,” George said.

Draco stopped holding the shop door open and let Harry in.

“He’s not going to sell me anything,” Draco said quietly.

“Mr. Potter!” Draco jumped when Ollivander approached them, “Mr. Malfoy.”

“Hello, Mr. Ollivander,” Harry said, “Um, Draco would like to buy a new wand.”

Ollivander looked to Draco sympathetically.

“I’ve read the papers,” he said, “What was done to you, what you went through, I am so sorry, child.”

Draco nodded.

“Thank you,” Draco said.

Ollivander headed to the shelves to select a wand and brought one back. It was smooth and porcelain white.

“Eight inches, white oak, dragon heartstring.”

Draco took the wand. It hummed with him as he pointed it at Harry.

“Accio, Harry’s glasses.”

His face lit up as Harry’s glasses floated toward him.

“Give those back,” Harry joked.

“They’re mine now,” Draco teased as he put the glasses on his own face.

Harry took his glasses and put them back on.

“There you have it, then,” Ollivander smiled.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Ollivander,” Draco said, “It’s been…terrible not being able to use magic.”

“Of course, dear boy,” Ollivander spoke.

“I’m paying,” Harry offered as he reached into his pocket and pulled out some money.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ollivander,” Draco spoke, “For what was done to you at the manor, for…for what You-Know-Who did to you…”

“I hold no grudge against you,” Ollivander said.

“You don’t?”

“War is complicated,” Ollivander explained, “And you were barely of age at the time.”

Harry had finished paying for the wand.

“Come on, Draco,” Harry said, “Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.”

“Yes, I’ll see you,” Ollivander said.

Draco followed Harry toward the front door.

“What about George and Teddy?” Draco asked.

“They’ll catch up with us,” Harry said, “Teddy likes toy wands, keeps breaking them, though. It worries me.”

The blonde laughed.

“Does he know?” Draco asked.

“About what?”

“Anything. The war, Voldemort, death eaters, his…parents?”

“He calls his grandma ‘Mum’ for the time being,” Harry answered, “He doesn’t know about the war yet. We…we don’t know how to tell him.”

“Yeah,” Draco said, “We should wait for them.”

The two stood outside the store until George and Teddy came out. Teddy was swinging around his new toy wand.

“Careful, Teddy,” Harry said, “If you break that one, you won’t get a new one.”

“Don’t worry, Teddy,” George assured the young one, “Uncle Georgie will always buy you new toys.”

“Quit spoiling my godson,” Harry said.

“How dare you accuse me of such things?” George feigned offense.

Draco couldn’t help but laugh. As they walked, George stayed in the back with Draco as Harry walked ahead with Teddy.

“How was wand shopping?” George asked.

“F…fine,” Draco showed George the new wand.

“Good.”

“Harry gave me some of your vanishing cream,” Draco said, “It…It works really well.”

“Yeah,” George agreed, “I don’t make that much anymore. You, uh, you seem a bit nervous.”

“I don’t leave Harry’s house much,” the blonde answered, “Except when I visit my Mum.”

“I meant that you seem nervous around me,” George corrected.

“Nope.”

“We don’t hold a grudge toward you.”

“I know.”

“Hmm. All right, then.”

The blonde relaxed as he walked behind George.

…

Bill took the letter that an unknown owl had dropped off at the cottage. It was addressed to him. He figured it might have been from his work or one of his old friends from Hogwarts. However, when he opened it, chills went down his spine.

William,

I miss you. I miss what we had. I’ve been watching you. Your poor wife, she can’t give you what I can. I know what you want, what you need. I can give you that again, Bill.

-Reggie

“Fleur!” he called.

To his relief, she ran out of their bedroom, looking concerned.

“What is it?” she asked.

“He’s watching me.”

“Who?”

He handed her the letter.

“Reggie,” she read, “Bill, what do we do?”

“Hide. We’ll go to Harry’s house. He won’t know where we are.”

“Okay.”

“Go pack some clothes. I’ll warn my family.”

Fleur ran back to their bedroom, then returned almost immediately with a bag that she must have magically packed.

“You go on,” Bill said, “I’ll be right there in just a moment.”

“Promise?”

“Yes,” he said, “Now, go.”

She gave him a kiss before dissaparating.

“Shit,” he mumbled.

He prepared to send a floo message to his family before being interrupted by a voice.

‘I can see you, William,’ Reggie’s voice spoke into his head, ‘Through the window. I can see you sleep.’

Bill frantically checked each of the nearby windows, not seeing anyone.

‘You miss my touch, you miss how it felt.’

“No!” Bill shouted.

‘Don’t deny it,’ Reggie echoed, ‘She doesn’t have to know.’

“Get out of my head!”

‘I’ve been in your head for a while, chipping away at that brain of yours,’ Reggie laughed, ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’

“Why?”

‘Because it was easy. You were so vulnerable, so easy to manipulate.’

“Leave me alone!”

‘Remember the times we had, William?’

Memories flooded back into him; the touches, the feeling…It was so strong, so potent, that he was overwhelmed.

“I missed you, too,” he admitted.

‘You’re pathetic,’ Reggie spoke.

Bill felt a hand grab his wrist. He jumped and looked next to him to see Fleur and Harry had apparated next to him.

“I knew something was wrong,” Fleur said.

“Bill, is he here?” Harry stared at him, “Bill!”

“I think so,” Bill answered, “He…he knows Legillimency.”

“Is he speaking to you?” Harry asked.

“He’s making me remember.”

“Make it stop,” Harry said, “Expel him.”

‘I’ll find you,’ Reggie spoke.

“I can’t,” Bill said, “He’s been in my head since the first attack.”

“Come to my house,” Harry grabbed his other wrist, “He won’t be able to find you there.”

 

The three apparated to Grimmuald Place. Bill fell to his knees and hid his face in his hands.

“Can you still hear him?” Harry asked.

“No.”

Fleur helped him up.

“Bill, you’re safe,” she said.

He held her tightly.

“He shouldn’t be able to reach or find you here,” Harry said, “I’m guessing he was right outside of the cottage and, since he won’t know where you are…If he’s really been inside your head for this long…”

“He is messing with your head,” Fleur finished.

“He wants me back,” Bill said, “He misses me, he’ll find me! I have to go to him!”

“Bill, no!” Harry yelled.

Fleur grabbed Bill’s wand, so he couldn’t apparate.

“He does not miss you!” she yelled, “He is stalking you! He wants to hurt you! I will not let him hurt you again!”

Bill realized he’d begun to cry. Slowly, his mind cleared, and he felt an ounce of clarity.

“I...what’s happening to me?”

“He’s been planting thoughts in your head,” Harry answered, “And, now that he’s found you, he wants to keep manipulating you, and he won’t stop.”

“I have to tell my family,” Bill said.

“I sent them a floo call after Fleur arrived.”

“Good.”

…

George watched the man who had entered his store just ten minutes before closing. He knew Bill had warned about a guy named Reggie, who’d brainwashed him in Azkaban. The shop had been nearly empty all day and George knew it couldn’t be a coincidence that this man walked in just before closing. George grabbed his wand as the man approached the counter.

“Hello,” George greeted.

The man was quiet as he made eye contact with George.

“Hello, George,” the man said.

Fred. Memories of Fred flashed before him: his dead body right after the war, his funeral, his gravestone.

“Who are you?” George raised his wand.

An image entered his mind, a projection: his shop on fire.

“Do you want to know what I did to your brother?”

“It’s you.”

Reggie laughed as he projected the mental images of what he did to Bill into George’s head.

“I’ll kill you!” George yelled, “You bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Empty threats,” Reggie said.

“CRUCIO!”


End file.
